


Within Arms Reach

by roe87



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Artist Steve Rogers, Asexual Bucky Barnes, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Beefy Bucky, Bisexual Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Cute, Dating, First Dates, Flashdance - Freeform, Fluff, Gay Steve Rogers, Happy, Lap dancing, Light Angst, Light Smut, M/M, Meet-Cute, No Angst, No Smut, Pole Dancing, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Romantic Fluff, Sex Worker, Sex Worker Bucky Barnes, Shy Bucky Barnes, Skinny Steve, Stripper, Stripper Bucky Barnes, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, Talk of sex work, Tattoos, Texting, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Steve Rogers, ace bucky, dancer bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 00:59:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11280435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roe87/pseuds/roe87
Summary: It's just Steve's luck that he falls head over heels for the first stripper to give him a lap dance.Being the romantic he is, Steve asks him on a date anyway.He wasn't expecting the guy to say yes...





	Within Arms Reach

Steve Rogers had never been inside a strip club in his life.

He'd been in gay clubs, and night clubs that had dancers. He'd seen movies with strip clubs in, sure.

But none of that had prepared him for actually sitting in a strip club. The lighting was low, the walls painted red and gold. The music was loud enough that Steve had to take out his hearing aid, so now he only heard from his good ear. At least the acoustics weren't too bad; the place was soft furnished and carpeted.

Though the carpets were sticky, because the dancers sloshed their champagne on the floor when their patrons weren't looking. Steve noticed these things.

But then, as a gay man, there was only so long Steve could sit in a roomful of female strippers and not get a bit bored.

It was Tony's birthday, and he was Steve's boss. Steve didn't want to be the only spoilsport. Tony was happily entertaining two dancers, who were sat either side of him and laughing at his jokes. Seemed the dancers were happy to sit and listen to Tony talk, as long as he kept handing over the paper tokens.

Clint, meanwhile, was happily getting a lap dance from a very busty dancer. That was the distracting thing, Steve kept catching the movement and glancing over, then feeling embarrassed and looking away again.

Steve was the only one in the Stark party without a dancer near him. A couple of them had already tried to slide on up to him, calling him things like _cute_ , or asking how old he was, which immediately got Steve's back up. He was aware he was short, and absolutely hated being fawned over like he wasn't a grown-ass man.

His dark scowl had scared off any offers of a dance so far. Not that Steve particularly wanted a dance from a woman.

“Tony...” Steve tried to say, but the music was loud, and Tony was distracted. Steve shifted closer and tapped him on the arm. “Tony. Did you say there's... more dancers downstairs?”

Their party was ensconced in the private lounge, apparently. The whole room to themselves; their choice of music, champagne on ice, and a lone pole at the centre on a tiny stage, with over a dozen female dancers for their entertainment.

Tony looked over finally, a big drunk grin in his face. “What's that, Rogers? Gonna go check out the boys?”

“Well, I can't wait all night for you to take a twirl on that pole, can I?”

Tony laughed, and made to get up. “Let's all go!”

“No, Tony–” Steve held up both hands. “I'd like to just... go on my own, if that's okay. I won't be long.”

Tony looked at him, and the dancers who'd been hanging off him started to look annoyed about not receiving his attention. “Sure thing, Rogers,” Tony said, clearly deciding that Steve didn't need coddling. “Take these!” He thrust some wads of the strip club's pretend money at Steve.

“What, Tony... No, there's way too much–”

“No arguing with the birthday boy,” Tony said. “We have plenty to go round, so go have fun. Or give it away, doesn't matter. Now, scoot.” He shooed Steve off, much to the relief of the young ladies who wanted to hustle him for more money.

Clint had his face wedged between a large pair of boobs, and Steve decided he'd go take a break from the heterosexuals for a while.

He pocketed his tokens –it looked like pink _Monopoly_ money– and followed the waiter's directions to get downstairs to the main club, and the promise of male dancers.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve wasn't sure what to expect when he got downstairs and shown to the room that had male dancers, but he wasn't expecting an audience of mostly women. Steve hesitated, scanning the tables of whooping patrons in the red glow of the club's lights.

Yup, all women.

He did spot one table that had two men; maybe there were a couple, or here with two women who'd gone to the restroom? All the two dudes did was sip their drinks while watching the stage, where a huge muscly blond was gyrating his ass, wearing a silver posing pouch. The beefy dancer dipped his ass low, allowing the patrons sitting close to the stage to tuck money into his thong, and slap his butt at the same time.

There were more dancers around on the floor, circling the tables or sitting with patrons having a drink. Steve didn't see any lap dances going on, which was something of a relief.

A petite waitress appeared, making Steve jump in surprise. She had a bob of red hair, and a knowing smile. “Shall I show you to your table, sir?”

“I, I was just, um...” Steve took a breath, steeled himself. “Sure. Thank you.”

She led him to a table that was more off to the side than anywhere in the middle of the room. All the tables in the centre, nearer the stage, were occupied by women cheering.

Steve decided he was quite content to be on the fringes. He sat in one of the plush velvet seats, and took the small menu he was handed. “Um, thanks. I'll just have a beer?”

“Certainly, sir.” She took the menu back. “My name's Natasha, if you need anything. Have you got all the tokens you need?”

“Yeah, thanks. I'm all good.”

She nodded, and stalked off between the tables, leaving him on his own.

Steve's attention was drawn by the dancers circling the tables like birds of prey. He shifted in his seat, preparing himself for the inevitable approach, his heart thudding.

Steve waited, nervous but excited.

And waited.

Natasha came back with his beer. He thanked her, asked when he needed to pay, and was told she'd opened a tab for him.

She clearly expected him to stay a while, Steve thought. “Okay, thank you,” he croaked, taking a gulp of beer as she left him again.

Okay, Steve, he told himself, you can do this. Just another regular customer.

He adjusted his glasses, and tried to concentrate on the stage instead of his immediate surroundings. Ignore the fact that so far the male dancers were ignoring _him_.

Steve watched beefcake after beefcake take the stage, and later walk out into the crowd, to the tables of waiting women, to hustle them for table dances. None of the dancers were approaching _his_ table. Steve felt his self confidence wither away minute by minute.

When he checked his watch, he'd only been there less than twenty minutes.

Should've stayed upstairs, he berated himself. Maybe he could wait another minute or so, then leave.

When one of the beefcake dancers appeared suddenly at his table, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Oh, sorry,” the guy said, ducking his head modestly, shoulder length dark hair obscuring his face. “Didn't mean to surprise you.”

“No, it's... it's fine.” Steve couldn't help but stare; this guy was gorgeous. Big, beefy and ripped, sure, but also lithe and kind of... non-threatening, in the way he held himself, and the shy way he looked up at Steve to smile, making eye contact.

Steve swallowed, feeling terribly out of his depth.

“Would you like me to sit with you?” the guy asked, barely loud enough to hear.

“Yes,” Steve hurried to say. “Please do.”

That brought an even bigger smile, lighting up the dancer's face. And, oh boy, he was very cute. Steve was in serious trouble.

The dancer adjusted the empty chair, angling it closer to Steve, then sat gracefully. He leant in, facing Steve with one arm draped over the back of the chair, and smiled again.

Steve was mesmerised. It wasn't so much that the guy was half naked... although, yes, okay, that was _very_ distracting. He wore black little booty shorts, his legs bare except for black boots. His thighs were toned and just the right side of sculpted. He had a slim waist, his stomach was hard and toned. He wore a dark blue crop top, showing off his abs and arms, but hiding his chest. Steve guessed he was ripped under there too, judging from the broad size and shape of him, but the small scrap of material concealing that part was tantalising.

“I'm Bucky,” he said, holding out his left hand. Steve noticed a tattoo of red and blue stars on his upper arm, over the bulging bicep.

“Steve.” He shook his hand, surprised by how chilled his fingers felt.

Bucky must've noticed his surprise. “Oh, sorry. I've been holding a cold water bottle backstage.”

He looked a bit embarrassed over it, so Steve said, “No, it's fine. It's nice to meet you.”

Bucky smiled, taking back his hand and leaning in a little closer. “I love your tattoos,” he said softly.

Normally, Steve didn't care for small talk about his tattoos. He'd only rolled up his shirt sleeves tonight because he was hot. But with Bucky, Steve's usual frostiness melted away.

He found himself saying, “Thank you. I, um. I designed them.”

“Yeah?” Bucky's eyes flicked over Steve's arms. “They're amazing. I love the color.”

Steve felt himself flushing. “Well, I'm a designer, so it's nothing really.” Feeling shy, he deflected quickly. “Yours is cool.”

Bucky grinned. “Oh, mine's so old. It needs touching up. All the color's faded.”

“Still. Looks cool,” Steve said.

Bucky ducked his head again, tucked a lock of long hair behind his ear. “Thank you. So, I haven't seen you here before?”

“Um, no. First time. I mean, in here... is... my first visit.” Steve's face heated, but hopefully in the red light it wasn't that noticeable.

“If you want the gay nights, they're on Thursdays and Sundays,” Bucky told him. “I'm usually there too.”

“Oh... Okay?” Steve wasn't sure if he understood that. “And tonight is...?”

“Oh, it's still LGBT friendly,” Bucky assured him. “But the other guys working tonight? They're pretty straight.”

“I see.” Steve didn't even care about other dancers right now. “Um... would you like a drink, or something? I mean, it's up to you. I won't be offended if you have to discard it on the floor. I'll pretend not to look.” Steve was rambling, but Bucky laughed like he'd said the most hilarious thing ever.

“I don't really drink,” he said, amused, “but I could take a club soda.”

“Oh. Great! Um, one sec.” Steve glanced about for a waiter, and managed to get Natasha's attention.

“What can I get you boys?” she asked, seemingly pleased.

“A club soda, and I'll take another beer. Thank you.”

“Coming right up, sir.”

As she left, Bucky leaned in again, looking at Steve with a smile. “You here on your own?”

“No, actually, my boss's birthday party is upstairs, but they're all straight, so...” Steve shrugged.

Bucky's smile grew. “So you came down here? I'm glad you did.”

“Oh.” Steve laughed, nervous. “Me, too.”

Natasha glided in with their drinks, depositing them on the table as unobtrusively as possible. “Enjoy,” she said, before gliding off again.

Steve drank his cold beer gratefully, and watched Bucky take a sip of his soda then play with the stirrer. “So, uh... no drinking, huh?”

“No, not this early in the evening anyway.” Bucky grinned at him. “I don't wanna trip myself up onstage.”

Steve smiled back, charmed by Bucky's sweet demeanour. “I hope that hasn't happened before?”

“Maybe just a stumble.” Bucky did that shy little head duck again. “I'm not real big on drinking.”

“Me neither,” Steve admitted. “My colleagues are all hitting the whiskey pretty hard upstairs.”

“Sounds like you'll remember more than they will.”

“That's usually how it goes.”

Bucky smiled at him, holding his gaze. He looked younger than Steve had initially thought; the dark scruff on his jawline made him seem older, perhaps. Steve thought a clean shaven Bucky would look younger and more vulnerable.

“Would you like a dance, Steve?” Bucky asked him, sounding hopeful and shy, and there was absolutely no way Steve would refuse.

“Sure,” he answered quickly. “How does... it work?”

Bucky smiled warmly. “Well, you got two options. I can dance for you here, you stay in your seat, that's one token. Or, if you want a bit more... _privacy_ , we can go in the VIP area just over there.” He gestured to an upper level Steve hadn't even noticed. “Those dances are two tokens.”

“Um, okay.” It wasn't a question of tokens, Steve had a wad in his pocket, but he couldn't help ask, “Is there a time difference, or something?”

“A dance here is two songs. A dance in the VIP area is three songs. And...” Bucky twirled a strand of hair around his finger, obviously flirting. “I'd be naked.”

“Naked?” Steve's voice wobbled. “Is that... a rule?”

Bucky shrugged one shoulder. “It's up to you, Steve. I can keep clothes on if you prefer. Price is the same.”

“Um... okay.” Steve's head buzzed with the possibilities; one moment it was a simple hello, the next it was straight into negotiating nudity. Steve couldn't help picture Bucky naked, and how incredible he'd undoubtedly look.

Maybe Steve looked a little lost, as Bucky gently laid a hand on his arm and assured him, “We'll take it slow, okay?”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky led him to a set of alcoves, hidden from view by shiny beaded curtains. Steve had a mortal fear of beaded curtains; his grandma had had one and Steve had always managed to wrap himself up in it somehow.

Luckily for him, Bucky swept the beads aside for Steve, and Bucky was a lot taller. Steve carefully stepped inside the little room, set their drinks down on the low table. The seats were the same style as the ones out on the floor –plush red velvet, horseshoe shaped back– except these ones were wider. Like they'd easily fit two people. When Steve sat in one, he barely filled it, would've had to reach his arms out to touch the sides.

Bucky perched on the seat next to him, took a sip of his soda. “I'll dance for you when the next song starts, okay?”

“Um, sure.” Steve tried not to fidget. All the songs sounded similar to him, especially with only one good ear; thumpy bass, slow R'n'B.

“Tell me about your job?” Bucky asked. “You said you're a designer?”

“Yeah, it's graphic design based. I don't get to draw as much as I'd like to any more, but this is a good job, so can't complain.”

Bucky smiled fondly. “What do you like to draw?”

“Um...” Steve flushed again, wasn't nearly smooth enough to admit he'd love to draw Bucky. “I, um, don't mind. I like to draw what I see, I guess. Get it down on paper. If I was painting, it could be more abstract.”

“Sounds real cool. I'd love to see.”

Steve shifted, tried to tamp down on his happy grin. “You like art?”

“Sure. I like colorful stuff, y'know? Anything post modern is cool with me.”

Steve's heart thumped heavily, like it agreed with Bucky. Steve nodded eagerly, but before he could reply, Bucky got up with one fluid movement and approached him.

“Ready for your dance?”

Steve hadn't even noticed the music change. He nodded dumbly, unable to do much else.

And then Bucky was leaning down into him, close enough for Steve to smell the spicy scent of product on his hair, and the light musk from his skin. Steve found himself breathing deep, revelling in Bucky's smell and the closeness of him.

Bucky leaned in so close, arms braced on the back of Steve's chair, his long hair tickling Steve's cheek. He let out a soft gasp, right by Steve's ear – thankfully the good one– and that was all it took for the blood in Steve's body to rush south to his genitals. He was immediately more turned on than he'd ever felt in his life.

This was _way_ more intimate than he'd expected.

Bucky pulled back to look in his eyes, and Steve would've sworn he was about to be kissed, especially when Bucky leaned in. Steve even closed his eyes, but Bucky only grazed his cheek with his lips, leaned into his other ear...

Steve cleared his throat gently, in fear of his voice wavering. “I, um. I'm almost deaf in that ear. Just in case you, er... try to tell me something important, I guess.”

“Oh.” Bucky pulled back again, but didn't make a fuss over it. “Would you open your legs a little, please?”

Steve gingerly opened his legs, and Bucky placed one of his thick, beautiful legs between Steve's, and Steve noticed Bucky wore black material over his knees, like soft knee-pads.

The thought of Bucky wearing knee-pads send a lot of thoughts racing through Steve's mind as to why he'd need protection.

“Relax,” Bucky told him, leaning back toward Steve's good ear. “You're doing great.”

Steve laughed at that. “I am?”

“Of course,” Bucky said, voice all breathy. “I'm so pleased you let me dance for you, Steve.”

Steve swallowed, hard. “M-me, too.”

Bucky gyrated in Steve's lap to the beat, holding himself just shy of touching. Steve watched, looked his fill. It was kinda hard not to, he was caged in by Bucky's huge arms, and his thick thighs, and he really was very beautiful. He had what many would call a perfect body.

Normally Steve felt jealous around anyone so fit and ripped, but with Bucky, who was so unassuming about his own looks, Steve felt... different. Like he had the space to simply admire, and feel safe doing so.

It was pretty awesome.

Then Bucky straightened up, playing with the hem of his crop top. “Do you want me to take off my top?” he asked, seemingly shy.

Steve wasn't sure if the coyness was an act, but it helped put him at ease. He nodded in agreement, watched as Bucky peeled his top away, revealing a hard, muscled chest.

The stars from his arm tattoo trailed onto his left pec, and Steve really liked that. He didn't have a chance to say so, as Bucky leaned back in, balanced over Steve to press his bare chest close. He moved to the music, leaning in and then pulling back, rolling his abs at Steve. His chest came so close to Steve's face, if Steve had stuck out his tongue it would've easily made contact.

But Steve didn't do that, concentrated on behaving like a good customer. He was also committing the finer details of the experience to memory, tried to ignore the feeling of _want_ whenever Bucky's ass brushed over his crotch.

Steve promised himself he would go home and spend some quality time with his right hand tonight, if he could just get through this encounter with his pride intact, that'd be great.

Bucky leaned back, ran his hands up his chest and squeezed his pecs together, hips grinding slowly.

Steve was so hot for this, it was a miracle he didn't come in his pants already.

Bucky pushed his hands up into his hair, lifting it away from his face and neck. He had a face an artist would want to paint, or Steve thought so anyway. Strong lines, high cheekbones, and a square jaw. He had pale eyes, and pouty full lips. His arms looked spectacular too, especially held up like that.

Steve itched for his phone to snap a picture, but if he wanted to draw Bucky it'd have to be from memory.

Bucky stood back and turned slowly, stuck his ass out and wiggled it over Steve's lap. He had a great ass too, Steve thought, plump and round. He still had on his little shorts, and Steve thought about what it'd be like if Bucky did dance nude for him. Steve would see it all, no holds barred.

Did customers really just sit there and watch? Steve wondered. Even when the dancers were naked and right there? Had he unwittingly wandered into the 'extras' area, or something?

That would probably be a bit too adventurous for Steve's first rodeo.

But he trusted Bucky.

Bucky wouldn't push him.

When he turned to face Steve again, he trailed a hand all the way down his chest, over his flat stomach, and groped at the bulge in his shorts.

Steve couldn't help but stare. It was so hot. He had no idea if Bucky was hard, or if he just had a huge dick in there; it was a little too dark to tell.

Bucky's fingers toyed with the waistband of his shorts. “Want me to take these off too, Steve?” He pulled the material down a little, exposing his hipbone, before popping it back up again.

He did that twice more, teasing, and Steve was so mesmerised that it took him a while to respond. “Um.” He cleared his throat. “Is it okay if you... keep them on? I mean, not that you aren't very, _very_ attractive, it's just. Um.”

Bucky stopped playing with his shorts, left them in place as he leaned into Steve, crowded into his space. “Attractive, huh?”

He was smiling, but Steve still felt the need to rephrase. “Yes. And I meant stunningly attractive, but I didn't want to sound like a total dork.”

Bucky huffed a soft laugh, and to Steve's complete surprise, climbed right up into his lap, settling one thigh either side of him. He held onto the back of the chair as he rested his weight on Steve, grinding his hips to rub himself over Steve's crotch.

Steve gasped, hands coming up to hold Bucky's hips automatically. Bucky leaned in, nipped at Steve's ear. “You're not supposed to touch me, sugar.”

“Oh, shit.” Steve dropped his hands. “Sorry, I–”

“Don't sweat it.” Bucky moved his mouth close to Steve's throat, still grinding into him. “This okay, Steve? I can do something else if you want?”

“Uh,” Steve croaked, thrumming all over. “Yeah, uh, maybe not... that particular area.”

Bucky paused, lifted himself higher so he wasn't touching Steve. “You sure, baby? You can come, y'know. It's kinda the done thing.”

_Oh, boy._

“No, I'm … I'm good right now.” Steve didn't say he was a romantic and would rather date someone first... would happily date Bucky, in fact, before he considered anything else.

“If... if that's okay?”

Bucky smiled at him, resting his arms over Steve's shoulders. “Baby, you're the customer, you can have it any way you want it.”

Steve managed a watery smile back. “Okay. Thanks.”

“Want me to keep dancing for you?”

“Please.”

Steve watched Bucky dance his way through another song, gyrating his hips over Steve but careful not to touch him too much. He was very fluid with his movements, and still coming across as somewhat shy, which was nothing short of endearing.

At this point, Steve was half convinced that Bucky was naturally a bit shy, and played on this aspect more for his customers.

Either way, it was very charming. Bucky was sending out all these _sub_ vibes that sparked so many primal urges in Steve, he was honestly a bit floored. He wanted to put soft, warm clothes on Bucky, wrap him up, take him home and feed him. Make sure he was happy and cared for. And then peel the clothes off of him again in bed, and lick every inch of him.

Quite an epic day-dream to have while getting a lap dance.

When Bucky paused and asked Steve if he wanted him to keep dancing, Steve tugged some of the tokens from his pocket, just to make sure he had them still. Bucky's eyes tracked the movement, and Steve wasn't sure what to do next. “How long... um, how long can you stay? With me, I mean.”

Bucky seemed pleased. “As long as you want, baby.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Over two hours later, Steve was all out of tokens. He'd probably tipped too much –Steve had made an estimate how much Bucky's time cost, around thirty dollars per fifteen minutes– but with the amount of tokens Tony had given Steve, he was very happy to tip Bucky for his time.

Mostly they'd sat and talked. Everything Bucky said revealed more depth and personality, a dry sense of humor that matched Steve's own, a winning smile and the most infectious laugh.

Steve was more than smitten.

A thought at the back of his mind nagged that it wasn't real, Steve was a customer, a patron. Bucky was just being polite; he could be bored, for all Steve knew, and just doing his job.

Steve was a bit tipsy by this point, but not enough to drown out the voice nagging at him that he'd taken up enough of Bucky's time already, and he should get back to Tony.

The last thing he needed was Tony complaining he was being ignored on his birthday. So, Steve reluctantly said he had to go back upstairs, resisting the urge to whip out his credit card and ask Bucky to sit with him all night long.

He'd danced a couple more times for Steve; more of the same sensual lap dancing and breathing hotly in his ear.

It was the most intimate Steve had been with anyone –certainly anyone this good looking– for a long time.

Dragging himself away was hard.

“Thank you for your time,” he told Bucky, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

“Are you kidding, Steve? Come back any time.” Bucky held his crop top in hand, wasn't in a hurry to put it back on. “I'm here Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays.”

“Um, okay. Yeah... Thanks.” Steve wondered if that was just lip service, and before he chickened out, asked, “I just... I wanted to say, thank you for tonight. I really... it was a pleasure to meet you, Bucky. I'm sure you're already spoken for, but if you're not, I'd like to take you to dinner, or an art gallery, anything you want. Um...” He dared to glance up amid his rambling, found Bucky watching him with a small smile.

“Thanks, Steve. That's real nice of you.”

He didn't say anything more, and Steve's heart sank as he figured Bucky was indeed already involved with someone, or simply not interested. Steve made himself smile. “Worth a shot. Um, I'll see you.” He sort of waved, because he was a dork, then rushed off, snapping his way through the bead curtain, and hurrying back upstairs before he could embarrass himself any further.

 

~ ~ ~

 

When Steve returned to Tony's party and settled into a free seat, he wondered why on earth he'd rushed back when it was clear everyone was occupied with the female dancers. They probably hadn't even noticed he'd gone.

Except Clint, who had nodded off in his chair.

Tony was up on the tiny stage, trying to swing himself around the pole clumsily as the dancers and Rhodey cheered him on.

Steve sighed to himself, debated whether to get drunk, or go home and get drunk.

Or maybe he could fall asleep like Clint, he thought.

Steve checked the champagne bottles in their ice boxes, the ice having melted by now. There was enough for a flute or two, so Steve poured himself some champagne and tried to act like he was enjoying himself, when really he wanted to go home and lick his wounds.

He was just finishing his drink, when he noticed someone approach him.

“Excuse me, sir.”

It was the red-headed server, Natasha.

_Oh, shit._

Had she come to throw him out?

_This is what you get for drunkenly hitting on the dancers, Steven._

“Yes?” he said, expecting the worst.

“You dropped this.” She held out a white napkin.

“I... what? No, I don't think so.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows in a way that said not to argue.

Steve reached for the napkin. “Um. Thanks?”

She smiled, and waited. Steve wasn't sure why, so he looked at the napkin, unfolded it. Something was scrawled there in pen.

A cell phone number, and _Bucky_.

 _Oh_ , Steve thought.

He looked at Natasha, who shot him a smug smile, then strutted away again. Steve looked back at the napkin, his heart thudding hard, and a grin spread over his face.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve 11:26

Hello! This is Steve. The small guy with glasses. Did you really give me your number? Xx

 

Bucky 01:03

Sure did! Hi Steve :)

JSYK I'm working all night. Best time to talk is tomorrow after 2pm.

 

Bucky 01:05

Ps. I'd have called you the hot guy with glasses!

 

Steve 01:15

Wow, ok! I'm a bit drunk rn, just getting a cab home. I'd love to talk to you more. You're literally perfect. Xx

 

Bucky 01:38

LOL I doubt that but thank u, now go sleep it off before you drunk text and regret. TTYL! :)

 

~ ~ ~

 

When Steve woke up Sunday morning, he had a bit of a hangover, which sucked. He smiled to himself when he thought of how Tony, Clint and Rhodey would all be faring, as they'd drunk way more.

He rolled over in bed to check his phone, and saw the conversation with Bucky.

The dancer from last night, his mind supplied. The _gorgeous_ dancer from last night, who was completely charming and quite easily the most interesting person Steve had met in forever.

Steve set his phone aside and went back to sleep so he didn't have to deal with reality for a bit longer. He dreamed of Bucky grinding in his lap, and writhing naked in his bed, splayed out on white sheets.

Steve woke up horny and distracted from the dream. He decided to take a long shower, but found he couldn't stop thinking about Bucky.

He needed to get his head together.

After he'd showered and gotten dressed, it wasn't even midday. Bucky's last message had said not to talk before two, presumably because he'd be asleep.

Steve made himself a hangover breakfast. Being in his thirty's meant even a few drinks knocked him out the next day. But with his weak immune system, he was relieved he hadn't woken up with a cold, so he'd count his blessings.

He watched TV for a while, checking his phone every minute or so. He lived alone, so there was no one to see him act like a total dork about this.

As soon as it was two PM, Steve sent the text he'd written out, after many edits and deliberations.

 

 

Steve 2:00

Hello! How are you?

I'm sorry if I was a bit drunk last night btw x

 

 

When there wasn't an immediate reply, Steve felt anxious and started writing another message.

He didn't want to bombard Bucky with messages though, especially if he was only just waking up. Steve forced himself to wait. Just be cool, he told himself.

His phone chirped twelve minutes later, and Steve hurried to open the message. Bucky had sent a picture, and Steve nearly dropped his phone in surprise; he'd sent a selfie in bed.

Not that he was showing anything, but the suggestion alone was enough to get Steve's blood pumping. Bucky's picture was a head and shoulders shot; he had his eyes closed, dark lashes on pale skin, and his lips pursed at the camera like he was waiting for a kiss. His long dark hair fanned out around him on the pillow, one bare arm posed behind his head.

The accompanying text simply said, _Morning!_

Steve smiled, thrilled. He couldn't quite believe this was happening to him. Bucky was so effortlessly gorgeous, one of those people that looked good any time of day, no doubt. And he was sending photos to _Steve_.

Steve couldn't help stare at the photo. His artist's eye picked up on details; the color and design of Bucky's bed sheets; purple, blue, and with some pattern Steve couldn't determine. There was also something fluffy and tan colored near Bucky's head. Steve guessed it was a stuffed toy of some kind, or maybe a pillow.

Not what he'd expected.

He composed a reply, panicking about what to say. Why on earth someone so hot was texting him anyway, Steve had no idea.

 

 

Steve 2:15

Thank you for the pic of your morning photo shoot, you look flawless. How are you? Xx

 

Bucky 2:17

LOL yeah my styling team just left. I told em to make me look like I woke up like this ;P and im good thank u. How r u? What are ur plans today?

 

Steve 2:20

Lol well you look beautiful <3

No plans, just work thru my slight hangover, and maybe try to charm/ bribe/ convince you to have dinner with me sometime? Xx

 

Steve 2:21

or something of your choice, of course. X

 

Bucky 2:25

LOL my choice huh? Would you take me to the zoo?

 

Steve 2:26

yes, altho please no insects

 

Bucky 2:27

LOL what is wrong with insects??

 

Steve 2:28

Nothing. As long as I'm nowhere near them :P

 

Bucky 2:30

Oh it's like that! Do you need someone to be your designated spider catcher? Even tho spiders aren't technically insects...

 

Steve 2:31

lol yes, and yes :D please move in right away.

 

Bucky 2:32

:P awesome lol

 

Bucky 2:32

You got snapchat?

 

Steve 2:33

No, bc i'm not a teen.

 

Bucky 2:34

Whoa!

 

Bucky 2:35

BRB gotta head to the ER for that SICK BURN dude

 

Steve 2:36

lol I'm sure you'll live. I can't have stuff like snapchat, it's annoying.

 

Bucky 2:39

LOL I bet I could persuade you otherwise.

 

Steve 2:40

That is unfair, and yes I'm sure you could! :P

 

Bucky 2:44

Cmon send me a pic of you then? Just your face, nothing rude!

 

Steve 2:45

My face can be rude :P

 

Bucky 2:46

LOL just send me a selfie.

 

Bucky 2:49

Steve. Where's my pic??

 

Steve 2:52

I had to fix my hair. I told you I don't have my own stylist.

< img attachment.001 >

 

Bucky 2:54

Finally! Lookin sharp btw xxx

 

Steve 2:55

I'll take your word for it lol

 

Bucky 2:56

For real :)

 

Bucky 2:57

So it's gay night tonight! You coming in?

 

Bucky 3:00

I'll be onstage a lot. It's fun. Come down! :)

 

Steve 3:02

I'd really love to, but I got work in the morning.

 

Bucky 3:05

You don't have to stay late. We do most of the stage stuff before 1 am anyway. I'll get you a good table, you can leave early if you need.

 

Steve 3:07

I'm not sure. I mean I'd love to, but idk.

 

Bucky 3:08

Be cool if you made it! :) Let me know.

I gotta go get ready, I'm doing classes before the club tonight.

 

Steve 3:09

Sure, no problem. What classes?

And I'll text you later? Xx

 

Bucky 3:26

Yeah! And it's a zumba class! Lol i'm covering for a friend. gonna wear my new outfit, i'll send you a pic from the gym. Bye for now! Xox

 

Steve 3:30

Ok :) have fun! xx

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve was in some serious trouble. On the one hand, he knew there was no way that someone as hot, active, and clearly intelligent as Bucky would be into Steve.

There was just no way.

Unless he had a thing for twinky-looking guys? But... Steve hadn't gotten that vibe from Bucky; he didn't talk about anything sexual –aside from the brief time negotiating Steve's lap dance in the club, and even that had been pretty tame– and he didn't press Steve for nude photos or anything like most gay men did.

Maybe he was shy?

Or, on the other much more rational hand, Bucky was looking for someone to hustle money from. That made more sense, especially when Bucky had asked him to come to the club again tonight. Clearly he was after more money, saw Steve as an easy meal ticket.

And Steve being the absolute sucker he was, had already fallen for it. He was half convinced to go along tonight.

How often did a drop dead gorgeous dancer ask Steve anywhere? And what were the chances of it happening again in his lifetime?

Slim to none, when Bucky eventually found out Steve wasn't as rich as he likely assumed. Steve could afford a night out tonight on his credit card, but that'd be it for the rest of the month. And he couldn't afford to blow hundreds of dollars every month on lap dances anyway.

An escort would be cheaper, but Steve had never even considered it before. He was old fashioned; he wanted someone to date, to cook dinner for. To hold his hand, watch movies with. He shouldn't be wasting his time with hustlers who would just string him along. He was far too naïve for this sort of thing.

Then Bucky sent a couple photos from the gym, as promised, posing in front of a large mirror. He was in a lavender color tank top, with matching sweatbands on his wrists and across his forehead, with his hair tied up in a knot. He wore black knee length leggings with white stars printed on them, and sneakers with rainbow laces.

The first picture he was standing casually in front of the mirror, hard polished floor behind him and a clear room. The second picture he'd struck a pose, smiling happily, and it was so utterly adorable, Steve knew he was a goner.

He texted a reply, chatting with Bucky before he took his class, and ended up agreeing –like he knew he would– to visit the club again that night.

Maybe Steve could apply for a bank loan, or something. If the bank asked what it was for, he'd have to think up some better reason than 'unexpected sugar daddy'.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Gay night was very different from last night; the lights were more colorful, flashing pink, blue and gold. The music was classic disco and pop beating through the club. Steve liked it, and the atmosphere felt lighter too.

He was led between tables of men, and some women in the audience. Steve tried not to look too long, but his gaydar was pinging all over the place.

The dancers were different; mostly guys, and not just beefcakes, Steve noticed. Though even the lean male dancers were taller and more muscular than Steve, and he felt self-conscious about his size as he sat at his table, alone.

He ordered a soda from the waiter. No way he was drinking again, or he'd never make it into work tomorrow. He was situated right up close to the stage. Steve wondered if Bucky had saved this spot for him, and his mind raced away with ideas as to why.

Steve's pockets were already stuffed full of tokens, the paper money with the club's logo printed over it which he'd purchased on his credit card, after paying the entry fee too. He had three hundred dollar's worth, and that was his limit.

He'd definitely be eating some ramen noodles before next pay day.

His soda was delivered by Natasha, the red head from last night.

“Hello, again, sir. Your club soda.”

“I, um. Thank you.” Steve felt his face flush.

She probably thought he was a real sad loser, coming here two nights in a row.

“The show starts at nine thirty,” she told him.

“Great. Thanks.”

She left him alone, wondering how many other customers the dancers plied for regular patronage. Was that how it worked?

Steve glanced around a bit, too nervous to people-watch when he was out in the open, but it seemed at first glance most tables were occupied with multiple people, groups of them.

Was he the only loner?

God, that was even worse. _Nice one, Rogers._

Steve sipped his drink and tried not to fidget. He couldn't get his phone out because there as a strict policy of confiscating phones being used on the floor, otherwise he'd be panic-texting Sam right about now, something along the lines of: _Way_ _out of my depth, send help._

He'd have to tell Sam in the office instead, when he was back from his business trip. Would Sam give Steve his sympathetic face, or his disappointed face?

Steve figured he deserved both, sitting out here like a fool.

That was, until Bucky appeared next to him, emerging out of the shadows and swirling lights, wearing a tiny crop top and a pair of shimmery mermaid scale hot-pants that caught the light.

Steve tried not to stare, but...

Well.

He forced his eyes up to Bucky's face, found him grinning happily.

“Hey, you made it!”

He sounded pleased. Steve tried not to get his hopes up, but it was hard. He smiled back. “Yeah! How's it going?”

“All good.” Bucky glanced at the empty chair, then smiled at Steve again. “Would you like me to sit with you?”

“Yes, sure,” Steve said, though he took a subtle look of his watch as Bucky went to sit, made a note of the time. Steve wasn't naïve enough to think Bucky would sit with him free of charge. This was all an illusion, he had to remember that.

Bucky perched on the edge of the seat next to Steve, like he wasn't intending to stay long. The white crop top he wore had two pretty pink shells printed on it, like a mermaid bra. It was cute, especially with how Bucky sat, hands tucked demurely between his legs as he smiled at Steve.

If it was an act, Bucky was clearly very good at it.

“How long can you stay tonight?” he asked.

“Um, not long, I'm afraid. Maybe a couple hours?”

Bucked nodded. “That'll let you see most of the show. I have to do a few sets throughout the night, so I can't really hang out here more than a half hour at a time.”

“Oh, sure. Well, I'll... be here, I guess?”

Bucky grinned, ducking his head coyly. “You on your own this time, Steve?”

“Er, yeah.”

“I can keep you company.” He looked up at Steve, hopeful, blinking his eyes slowly.

Everything in his posture was saying _submissive_ , hitting Steve right in the gut and sparking his dominant side. He wanted to jump Bucky so bad... and also take care of him, make sure he was okay. It was all very overwhelming and Steve simply nodded in reply; he was already a goner.

“Yeah, sure. I'd like that.”

“You wanna come to the VIP area with me?”

“Okay,” Steve choked out, and got up to follow Bucky eagerly.

The curtained off area wasn't as busy as last night, Steve noticed; the customers were mainly out in the audience, waiting for the show. Maybe that's why Bucky had wanted him to come, to drum up some business.

Oh, well. Like it mattered now.

Bucky got up on Steve's lap when he was in the chair, straddling him with his arms draped over his shoulders. He whispered sweet nothings in Steve's (good) ear, “Did you miss me, baby? I'm so pleased you're here with me,” breathing the words against Steve's skin like a lover would, sending sparks firing up and down his body.

Steve was so turned on so fast, when Bucky asked, “What would you like me to do?” Steve couldn't process.

“Um... huh?”

Bucky leaned back a little, resting his ass in Steve's lap. “Would you like me to... take off my top?”

Steve swallowed. “Okay.”

Bucky pulled the top up over his head, exposing his bare chest and ruffling his hair a little, which sent Steve's mind dashing to all sorts of places... like, what Bucky looked like in bed, writhing in ecstasy and mussing up his hair.

Bucky smiled sweetly at him, tucked a lock of hair behind one ear. “Good?”

“Y-yes.”

He moved his hands to grip the back of Steve's chair, pulled himself up on his knees. Steve swallowed as Bucky began to lift and drop his ass onto Steve's lap real slow, over and over, like he was riding a cock, hips undulating effortlessly, his abs tensing and rippling.

Steve could just picture how it'd be if they were in bed, with Bucky riding him for real. His genitals throbbed with want, and he curled his fingers into his palms before he gave into the desire to run his hands up Bucky's sculpted thighs and put a move on him.

“This good, Steve?” Bucky asked, lips brushing his cheek.

A whimper escaped Steve before he could stop it, so he cleared his throat. “Um, yes, but... maybe a little too good,” he tried to joke.

Bucky leaned into him, pressing more of his weight down. Steve wanted to wrap his arms around Bucky and never let go.

“I can go faster,” Bucky offered, “if you want to get off? It's okay.”

“Um, no, no,” Steve said hurriedly. That was a line he wasn't ready to cross. “I mean, I haven't even bought you dinner yet.”

Bucky pulled back to look at him, like for a brief moment he wasn't sure how to respond. Then he was back to crowding into Steve, whispering in his ear. “And where would you take me for dinner?”

“Um, anywhere you want.”

That prompted a laugh from Bucky, and it sounded genuine.

Steve liked feeling Bucky's body shake with mirth against him. “What's so funny?”

“I dunno.” Bucky rested an arm on Steve's shoulder while he trailed his hand down Steve's shirt front. “Tell me what kinda food you like?”

Now it was Steve's turn to laugh, albeit nervously. “Generally, anything. I guess I don't like red meat much. I'll eat fish.”

“Fish, huh?”

“Yeah. What do you like?”

“Oh, I'll eat anything.” Bucky winked at him, and really it should've been corny but it wasn't and Steve was close to getting down on one knee to propose any minute now. He'd never been so spellbound by anyone before, his heart thudding hard in Bucky's presence, and his soul singing, _yes! This one, this one!_

Steve was a goner.

“So...” Bucky played with the buttons on Steve's shirt, eyes lowered, and it was intimate and captivating, and Steve almost missed the question... “Would you share your dessert with me?”

“Huh? Oh, absolutely.”

Bucky grinned, pleased. “Sure about that, Steve? What if I ate all your dessert?”

“You can have my dessert,” Steve promised, unsure if this was a euphemism, or they were actually talking about dessert.

“Aren't you a gentleman.” Bucky leant in again, brushed his lips over Steve's jaw.

Steve's eyes fluttered closed, and he felt Bucky rest his head on Steve's shoulder, barely a moment, but Steve felt it. Almost like Bucky wanted... a hug? Or was Steve misreading it?

Steve wasn't allowed to touch him either way, so...

It was probably just part of the act, Steve told himself. He was simply reading into things too much.

Bucky nuzzled into him a little more, before asking, “You staying for another dance with me?”

He meant another fifteen minutes, Steve realised. That had sure gone quick. “Okay,” he agreed.

May as well make the most of it while he could.

 

~ ~ ~

 

The stage show was something else.

Steve thought it'd just be the dancers taking turns around the pole, but it was more than that. There was an emcee, in a pink and black outfit with a Cajun accent and a quick wit. He started with a card trick that ended in special effects, the cards disappearing in a flash of fire in his hand, and surprised gasps from the audience.

The act on after him was a young man and woman, and Steve recognised them both as dancers; the guy with short silver hair, and the girl with long red hair. They performed to a _Dirty Dancing_ medley, even did the dramatic air lift, which was impressive. The audience whooped and cheered.

Steve noticed that audience members threw tokens onstage, and the dancers would pick them up afterwards, scooping the paper into their hands before running offstage again.

Steve figured he'd save his tokens for Bucky. He was already eighty dollars down out of his three hundred, because he'd tipped Bucky an extra twenty on top of his thirty minutes of lap dancing.

Hell, Steve would've handed over the whole lot at once if Bucky had asked him. But he hadn't, he'd simply thanked Steve and said he'd see him onstage soon.

Steve didn't have to wait long for Bucky's first act. After the emcee announced him, the lights trained on the stage as the opening beat to eighties pop classic _Like A Virgin_ started. Steve's jaw went slack when Bucky strutted out wearing white bridal underwear, a small bouquet of flowers in hand and a veil in his hair.

The crowd whooped as he danced, played up to the song and threw his bouquet to the front seats. Steve had always been partial to men in lingerie, but seeing _Bucky_ in lingerie... white bridal lingerie, no less, shimmying around onstage, doing perfect ab rolling, then dropping his ass down low, yeah, Steve was into it.

Then Bucky dropped to the floor, body moving fluidly before he changed position, rolling onto his back and kicking his legs out in the splits.

_Wow._

A cold trickle of anxiety settled in Steve's stomach; he felt intimated by such an athletic display of agility. He watched Bucky kneel onstage –and that's clearly why he wore knee pads– and undulate his hips, and Steve couldn't help but feel inadequate in comparison.

There was simply _no way_ someone so athletic and gorgeous as Bucky would ever be into Steve, let alone be satisfied by him _in bed,_ which was where Steve's mind shot to first.

The bedroom had always been a huge source of anxiety for him. What would Steve do, exactly? He was a shrimp, and he couldn't do anything impressive. He wasn't even that strong physically, he'd never be able to match such incredible gymnastic skills in the bedroom. He'd likely freeze in panic if Bucky ever graced his bed with his perfect bod and Olympic level moves.

Steve watched Bucky crawl along the edge of the stage on hands and knees, and then lean on his side to offer one leg straight out to the audience, so they could slip tokens into the garter he wore.

Steve kinda hoped Bucky didn't come over his way, he felt far too conspicuous. But then Bucky crawled over to him, smooth and graceful as anything, a smile on his face, and Steve was like a deer in the headlights.

Bucky came right up to him, swivelled on his ass and extended his leg out onto Steve's table, perfectly straight, right in front of Steve's face.

Steve was amazed Bucky didn't knock his drink over, but clearly he was a professional at this. Steve pulled out a wad of tokens, carefully tucked them into the white garter on Bucky's muscular thigh, tried not to dislodge any of the other notes already there.

He actually got to touch Bucky's skin in the process, even if his hands shook. Bucky winked at Steve, rolled back onto the stage and rose to his feet, where he stalked over to the pole center stage, and gripped it in his hands, lifting himself up easily. His muscles tensed and bunched as he hung upside down, steadied by one booted foot. He slid lower on the pole, his other leg extending out into a perfect right angle, holding the pose for a moment.

It was such a beautiful display, and then Bucky's foot finished its arc, dropped down to the floor, and he flipped himself right side up again, one hand still on the pole and his little white veil fluttering softly over his head.

Patrons at the front tables were waving tokens furiously to try get his attention, and Steve couldn't help think how out of his depth he was.

 

There was a magician on directly after Bucky, with a host of assistants. He was called Doctor Strange, and took his magic act way too seriously.

It gave Steve some time to calm his nerves, and give himself a pep talk before he saw Bucky again. He knew his place, he told himself.

He was a patron, a _customer_.

That meant he had as much right to be here as the wolf whistling, booze guzzling people on other tables, who got Steve's back up.

And he wasn't sure if he was feeling jealous, possessive, or just annoyed at himself for the whole situation, but he didn't like the thought of drunk, handsy customers touching Bucky or making a grab for him any time he came close.

Steve knew he had no right to feel that way. He was a customer too, buying lap dances from Bucky. Just because he had a huge crush on the guy didn't make him any different.

That was why Steve decided that after tonight he wouldn't come back in the club, he'd draw a line under this whole encounter. Chalk it up to experience, or something.

And, boy, what an experience.

Once he'd made up his mind on this, Steve felt relieved about it. Like the pressure was off, somehow.

And then Bucky came back onstage to _Mystify_ –one of Steve's all time favorite INXS songs– wearing an oversized shirt and tie, hair tucked up under a trilby hat. The way he moved, feet sliding feather-light over the floor, and the way he held himself, suggested formal dance training, though Steve had no idea what the style was. Bucky did a lot of spins, tight and controlled, then freezing on the spot in perfect time with the music, before flowing seamlessly into his next move.

He tipped his head forward, pulled off his hat and flicked his long hair back, smiling into the spotlight. When his eyes scanned the audience and found Steve, his smile seemed to brighten, and Steve fell head over heels all over again.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Did you enjoy the show?” Bucky asked when he stopped by Steve's table.

He'd made a beeline for Steve, or had Steve just imagined that?

“Yeah! Yeah, it was great,” he said. “You were amazing.”

Bucky ducked his head as he smiled, that shy gesture again. His dark hair was loose, with a pink peony clipped in one side, matching the pink crop top he wore.

He also wore a pair of shiny silver booty shorts, which really left little to the imagination now he was up close.

Steve swallowed, tried his best not to stare at Bucky's junk, and made himself look up.

“The interval is forty minutes,” Bucky said, moving to clasp his hands behind his back, all coy and adorable despite how huge he was. “If you want me to keep you company?”

Steve nodded, not trusting his voice.

Just this one more time, he told himself, as Bucky led him back to the VIP area. Through the beaded curtains and into a private world.

_Just this one more time._

Steve only had about ninety dollars left anyway, and that'd just about cover a half hour or so with Bucky, plus tip.

The budgeting aspect of this set up was a little stressful for Steve. He'd grown up poor and wasn't used to spending so much in night clubs. If Bucky knew how decidedly not-rich Steve really was, he probably wouldn't have bothered with him in the first place.

But all those worries ebbed away when Bucky lowered himself into Steve's lap, his strong thighs taking his weight and his plump ass only just brushing over Steve's legs.

Bucky held onto the back of the chair and did some leaning into Steve's neck, gasping softly near his ear, and leaning back again so Steve could look at him. He slipped his top off after a couple minutes, pressed his bare chest up close to Steve's face.

It was a wonder Steve's glasses didn't steam up with the amount of heavy breathing he was doing.

“You sure you don't want me to...” Bucky sank his weight a little, just briefly, grazing his junk over the bulge in Steve's pants, which was his packer.

He didn't know if Bucky realised that or not.

“I'm good,” Steve said. He'd very likely be able to get off from the friction if Bucky rode him fast enough... maybe if Steve opened his legs more, but he still wasn't sure about crossing that line.

Like, that was definitely _sex_ , of a sort.

Whereas now, Bucky was just sitting in his lap, and that felt more like... foreplay? But either way, if he wasn't going to see Bucky again after this, Steve didn't want to go down that road with him.

“You sure?” Bucky touched his fingers to Steve's neck, trailing them over his jaw, then down his neck. He fiddled with the top button on Steve's shirt, popped it open. “It'll feel good.”

Steve huffed a laugh. “No doubt it would. I just... um, don't really wanna do it here.”

“Ah.” Bucky undid another button, adjusted Steve's collar so it was wide open, exposing his throat.

Steve's mind provided images of him coming home from work, and of Bucky greeting him and sitting in his lap on the couch to ask how his day had been. Steve found he liked that idea a lot.

Steve's mind was _really_ not helping his resolve right now.

Bucky bit his bottom lip as he looked up at Steve through his eyelashes. “If here isn't your thing...” he began, shifting in Steve's lap, “we can arrange somewhere else. Just you and me.”

“Yeah?” Steve almost couldn't believe it. Would Bucky really go on a date with him?

“Sure.” Bucky smiled, then rolled his hips over Steve's lap. “Whatever you want, baby. I'll give you a good price.”

_Oh._

The bottom dropped out of Steve's world all over again.

_Of course._

How could he be so naïve? Bucky didn't want to date him, he only saw Steve as a customer.

“Oh, I... I don't think...” Steve stammered. “That wasn't what I meant.”

Bucky stilled, pulled back to look at Steve. “What _did_ you mean?”

“I, uh... it's silly, I...”

If Steve flushed any harder, he'd self combust.

Bucky seemed to take pity on him. He smoothed his hands over Steve's shoulders, and the contact calmed him. “It's okay. You can tell me, sugar. I promise it won't be the weirdest thing I've heard.”

_Oh, boy._

“No, it's, um. I mean...” Steve took a breath. “Sorry. I'm not used to asking anyone out. That's what I was trying to do. I'm not really looking to do anything with someone if I don't... date them. And I know you probably wouldn't even look twice at someone like me on the street, and I know I went about this all wrong, and–”

“Whoa, honey.” Bucky put a finger to Steve's lips, shushing him. “You want a drink? Loosen up a little?”

Steve laughed. “No, I... I really should go soon. I gotta get up early.”

“Aw, are you sure?”

“Yeah, really sure. I'm sorry, it's not that I don't... I mean, you're an incredible person, and I'm very attracted to you, I just. Uh, I didn't mean to make this awkward.”

Bucky was studying him when Steve felt brave enough to look up. Steve couldn't read his expression, maybe disappointment? Concern?

Having a john freak out on him was probably concerning, Steve figured.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to regain his composure. “Sober me is a total dork.”

A grin broke over Bucky's face. “Nah, you're all right, Steve,” he said, a hint of Brooklyn accent creeping in. He planted a kiss on Steve's cheek without warning, then carefully got to his feet. “I better head backstage.” He pulled his pink top back on. “Sure you don't wanna stick around?”

“Um...” _No, I've embarrassed myself enough tonight._ “I should get going,” Steve said.

Bucky nodded amiably, waiting.

Steve fished in his pockets, handed over all the tokens he had left. Bucky didn't remark on the amount, which was probably quite a hefty tip, he simply smiled at Steve and said thank you.

“Thank you, too,” Steve said, feeling every inch the dork he was.

“See you soon.” Bucky gave him a wink as he left, and Steve didn't want to watch him walk away, so he turned and exited the club as quickly as possible.

 

All the way home, Steve told himself it was for the best. He'd have been way out of his depth in every possible, conceivable way. His heart would've been crushed without Bucky even knowing, because that's what happened when shrimps like Steve fell for anyone like Bucky, who was too far out of Steve's league to notice him.

Steve debated deleting Bucky's number, but when he read back over their conversation, looked at the cute pictures Bucky had sent him, Steve couldn't bring himself to do it.

Maybe one day he could tell his grandkids about it all. This one time, kids, I had a crush on a dancer, and he was beautiful in every way.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve heard his phone ping and vibrate some time during the night, but as it wasn't ringing, and he was shattered, he slept on.

When he woke up and started dragging himself around to get ready for work, he checked his phone as he took his first sip of coffee.

And almost choked when he saw the messages.

Bucky had sent a string of them, between three and four AM, including two pictures that must've been taken by someone else. In the first image, Bucky was kneeling up on a soft, old looking chair, his back arched and head tipped back. His eyes were closed and he had his lips pursed, with a red feather boa draped over one shoulder.

From the look of the room in the picture, with clothes strewn everywhere, Steve thought it must be the dancer's dressing room, or something.

The next image was Bucky in the same chair, sitting on his butt with one leg held up perfectly straight, booted foot high in the air and his hand resting around his calf. He'd been caught grinning, and he looked happy. There was a caption across the image –and Steve recognised it as a Snapchat image, because sometimes his friends showed him theirs– that said, _How do you want me??_

The images were followed by three texts.

 

 

Bucky 03:17

Hey Stevieee

like what you see?? ;P

 

Bucky 03:42

Are you awake? Text me when you're awake

 

Bucky 04:01

So what do you want from me? What do you see us doing together?

 

 

Steve blinked at the messages. He was not nearly awake enough to be dealing with this, although his mind hurried to provide images of doing _couple_ things with Bucky. Having dinner, watching a movie, taking a walk in the park. Making love in the bedroom, and cuddling afterwards.

Steve pushed all those thoughts aside. He was too romantic for his own good, that was his problem.

He reasoned that if Bucky had been awake at four AM, it wasn't likely he'd still be awake now, so Steve had some time before he'd reply. He finished getting dressed and ready, left with his thermos of coffee, and thought about his reply during his commute.

Should he be honest?

Yes, he thought being honest was important, especially if trying to date someone.

But the question was, how could he phrase it? He couldn't very well leap in with, _Hey, I'd marry you in a heartbeat_ , because that sort of talk usually sent most guys running for the hills. He'd have to tone it down, at least to start off.

Besides, what was the likelihood of anything happening between them? Maybe Bucky was still trying to keep him as a customer, or something.

It'd make more sense.

Steve arrived to a quiet, _almost_ empty office. Surprisingly, Sam was loitering by the photo-copier in another department, which Steve passed through on the way to his own.

“Hey, Sam,” he greeted. “Good trip?”

“Steve!” Sam looked pleased to see him. “Nah, man. I'm so jet lagged, I came in early because Riley was trying to sleep.”

“You're so selfless.”

“Well, not really. Riley said if I tossed or turned once more he'd throw me out.”

“Oh... right.”

“Yeah.” Sam chuckled. “Anyway, you good? Wanna grab lunch later?”

“Yes, that'd be great. Something cheap, and that'd be even better.”

“Uh oh. Stark's party clear you out?”

Steve tried not to flush, willed his face to remain neutral. “Something like that. I'll tell you at lunch.”

“Sounds good! See you, Steve.”

“Bye, Sam.”

Steve carried on through to the art and design department. Sam was part of PR, which was why he often took trips. Steve was artistic director of the top design team, plus art and design for the entire company, and he needed to concentrate on their projects today.

He decided he'd reply to Bucky now, and not look at his phone until he had a designated break, because he was a dedicated employee.

 _Yeah, good luck with that, Steven._ He'd probably check his phone every thirty seconds.

_Okay, here goes._

 

 

Steve 07:59

Good morning, Bucky. How are you? Thank you for the photos. You're gorgeous.

I'm not sure I understand your question, but honestly I'm looking for someone to date. Like actually go on dates with, and get to know them. That's just me, I don't do casual well. If you'd let me take you to dinner, or wherever you want, I'd be honored.

I'll understand if that's not what you want tho. It was a pleasure to meet you.

Take care. Xx

 

 

Steve sent the message, and heaved a sigh. That may well be the last he'd hear from Bucky, and he felt pretty sad about that.

He checked his phone throughout the day, but no reply. Not that he was surprised.

Steve had lunch with Sam, told him an edited version of Saturday night and Tony's party; Tony having a go at pole dancing, Clint nodding off asleep. Sam laughed and asked if Steve had seen any dancers he'd liked.

Steve smiled wanly and stared down at his taco. “I'm not sure how I feel about... being in a place like that. I don't think it's for me.”

“They ain't for everyone,” Sam agreed. “And that's okay, Steve. We can't all like exactly the same things.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, feeling bad for not sharing the whole truth.

Maybe he would when he'd had closure, had gotten over Bucky. At the moment it was all too fresh, too raw.

It wasn't even so much that Steve didn't like the strip clubs themselves, or disapproved... Okay, maybe he did disapprove a little bit, but more in the same way he felt about a lot of service industry jobs, and the way the workers were treated, not just by customers who could be rude and entitled, but by the whole set up. Did the dancers actually make enough for what they were doing? How much did the club charge them for working? Did they even get insurance?

It was one of those things that worried Steve, but without restructuring society itself and essentially starting again, with fair chances for every single person, he didn't want to be the jerk who condemned other folks for working a job.

It wasn't like working for a huge corporation was without its problems, either.

Steve sighed in frustration. He wasn't concentrating at all. He'd been staring at the same proofs for twenty minutes and he may as well have been staring into space.

Was Bucky okay, out there? Was he happy?

Hell, for all Steve knew, he had a partner already, and wanted for nothing. Steve really needed to get over this, and get on with his own work.

 

~ ~ ~

 

By mid afternoon, Steve had almost gotten focused enough in work to forget about Bucky for five minutes, so he was surprised when he checked his phone and saw new messages.

 

 

Bucky 3:23

OMG you'd be honored, huh? Pretty sure that's a first. Where would this honor take place??? :)

 

Bucky 3:25

Ps. real sorry for texting you so late. I don't drink often and was thinking about you.

I am so hungover today I'm going to cry... send help

 

 

There was a picture message next, the image mostly of Bucky's face wearing an exaggerated pout. He'd clearly taken a selfie in bed, his hair messy but still good. What surprised Steve was the stuffed bear Bucky was holding close.

Not what he'd expected.

He quickly sent a reply.

 

 

Steve 3:40

It's ok, I like your msgs :)

Oh dear, do you have enough fluids? Food? Eat something and you'll feel better.

Lol and by 'honor' I presume you mean dinner? Anywhere you want, as long as it's after my next pay day.

 

Bucky 3:46

you're cute ^.^ yes, I have plenty of food and fluids, LOL. I'd love a big hug tho!!

I don't really go anywhere to eat? We can get a coffee if you want. I'm free friday day time.

 

Steve 3:50

I'm working but I get a lunch break. Our office is in Manhattan.

And isn't your bear giving you a big hug? :)

 

Bucky 3:54

LOL yeah my bear gives great hugs. Not quite the same tho!

OMG I'll never make it to MH for lunch. I work thurs nights. I can prob meet you after you finish work, if you want? Tomorrow or fri. x

 

Steve 3:57

I'm usually out at 5, and I don't mind Bucky, whichever day you want. Xx

 

Bucky 3:58

I'll come by tomorrow? We can get a coffee or whatever :)

But get ready to be v disappointed!

 

Steve 4:01

Why?

 

Bucky 4:04

I tend to disappoint ppl in person :(

 

Steve 4:07

I'm sure that's not true, Bucky. I'd only be disappointed if you didn't show up. You're a wonderful person. I'd like to get to know you more. Xx

 

Bucky 4:08

LOL can I have that in writing??

Well don't say I didn't warn you! Xx

 

~ ~ ~

 

“You're tense,” Sam commented, as he calmly watched Steve knock over the same cup twice all over his desk. Luckily it was mostly empty.

“I'm fine,” Steve lied, mopping up water in a hurry. “Didn't sleep much.”

“Yeah, you seem a little wired.” Sam lounged in Steve's chair, waiting on him.

Steve finished cleaning his desk. “Okay, let's go. I need to get out of here before Tony appears again and fobs another project off onto me.”

Sam chuckled. “So we're not inviting him to lunch?”

“I... need to talk to you,” Steve admitted. They walked from Steve's office to the elevators.

“Work, or pleasure?” Sam asked, as they waited.

Steve checked up and down the hall; it was clear, and hopefully with T'Challa's new project launching over in IT today, Tony and everyone else would be occupied.

“Um, it's not work,” Steve said.

The elevator pinged and they stepped inside, Sam giving him a sidelong look. “Okay, man. You wanna find somewhere to eat first?”

“Sure.”

They headed out into the street, walked two blocks amid the lunch time bustle down to the small park. They often came this way, grabbed something from a food stand or a shop, and sat on a bench to eat and have some air, like they did today.

“So,” Sam asked, unwrapping his deli sandwich, “what's on your mind?”

Steve didn't feel much like eating his sandwich, so he sipped his fruit smoothie instead. “Um.” He took another sip, cleared his throat. “I have a date after work.”

Sam turned to look at him, clearly surprised. He was chewing a mouthful of sandwich, so made an encouraging noise instead.

Steve smiled wryly. “Sorry to spring this over lunch.”

Sam swallowed, laughed. “You got me! I thought it was bad news, or something, but this is good!

“Um.”

“Isn't it?”

“Well, aside from this guy being completely out of my league–”

“Steve.” Sam gave him his patient look. “There's no such thing as leagues. We're all equal.”

“Yeah, but you haven't seen him next to me.”

Sam sighed dramatically. “Tell me all about him, then. What's so amazing about some dude?”

“He's a dancer,” Steve said, “and ripped. I mean, _really_ ripped. And he's sweet, and funny... but um, aside from all that... I think he propositioned me to... er, pay him,” Steve cleared his throat, “for, you know...”

“Dinner?”

“No. Sex.” Steve quickly drank half his smoothie in one go. His throat was really dry. “It was... kinda awkward. I said I'd rather date, so we're meeting later. But... I don't know what to do, Sam. I feel like an idiot.”

“Hold up. Where did you meet?” Sam asked. “Is it possible you misunderstood?”

“At Stark's party. He's a dancer at the club.”

“Oh,” Sam said, averting his eyes to his sandwich.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Sam set his sandwich aside, picked up his water and drank. “Okay,” he said again. “And he's going on a date with you, like a normal date?”

“We're just meeting for a coffee, yeah. I tried to be clear I was looking for someone to date, not for... anything casual.”

“Or paid?”

“Or paid.” Steve flushed, hard. “I mean, aside from the lap dances he gave me. That's how we met.”

Sam laughed, tried to cover it up and ended up shaking quietly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Laugh it up, why don't you.”

“Sorry.” Sam got a hold of himself, still clearly amused. “Oh, man. It's just, Steve, this is actually pretty cool. I hope you're going to sweep him off his feet. Have you got your moves ready?”

“Sam, this is serious. I kinda want this to last beyond one date.”

“You still need moves for that, Steve. Okay, so... what do you need my help for exactly?”

“I...” Steve wasn't sure what he was asking. “I don't know. Look, Sam, don't tell anyone else, will you?”

“I won't, man. I promise.” Sam crossed his heart. “I'll let you be the one to drop that bomb. Tell Tony and everyone at the annual charity gala that you're dating a stripper.”

“We haven't even been on one date yet,” Steve pointed out, “and I am not telling the whole office about my love life.”

“Okay, fine. Spoil my fun.”

They ate quietly for a minute, Steve nervous and Sam contemplative.

“So,” Sam asked, “you okay?”

“I feel... kinda dumb,” Steve said, setting his food aside. “He's probably not interested in me anyway.”

“How do you know that? He's agreed to go on a date, right?”

“Yeah, but.” Steve fished out his phone, showed Sam the last part of his conversation with Bucky.

Sam read it carefully, then handed Steve back his phone. “Man, I don't want to make assumptions, because you just don't know until you know. But, sounds to me like he's nervous.”

“What?” Steve didn't get that at all. “Why would he be? He was so confident, and he's gorgeous.”

“Have you only seen him inside the strip club?”

“Um... Yeah?”

“So, that's a work environment for him. Somewhere he feels comfortable, something he's used to.” Sam shrugged. “Going on dates is scary. It scares lots of people.”

Good point, Steve thought.

“Should I talk to him?” Steve asked. “See if he'd rather do something else?”

“What time you meeting?”

“Literally as I walk out the door at five, and he's working later tonight.”

“That's a bit short notice to change things up. Just have a coffee,” Sam said. “It'll be fine. Keep it light, ask him about his interests. See if he wants to plan an activity date, or something less formal than sitting down to talk.”

“He did say he wanted to go to the zoo.”

“Perfect! So, ask if he wants to go to the zoo, but don't pressure him, just put it on the table.”

Steve nodded along. “Right. Yeah, I can do that.”

“So, all okay?”

“I guess?”

“Steve, relax. He's a person just like you; dancer, or stripper or whatever. He's still a person. You just gotta see if you vibe, simple as that.”

Steve smiled wryly. “Easy for you to say.”

“Well, sure. I'm not the one going on the date, _you_ are. And you'll be fine, Steve.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Steve had quickly changed his shirt in the men's room before he packed up to leave, which did prompt a bit of side eye from Maria and Carol on his team, as he hurried to leave. Sam was on the phone as Steve passed by his desk, but he grinned and gave Steve a thumbs up.

Steve told himself not to feel nervous. He walked briskly down the street, trying not to knock into people, and headed toward Bryant Park and the library. There was a coffee shop that he'd suggested to Bucky for them to meet.

When he arrived, he couldn't see Bucky so he assumed he was first. He got in line to order, checked his phone, then took his black Americano to a free table over in the corner. Steve set his phone on the table, and saw the text light up his screen a moment later.

He breathed in, expecting the worst, and opened the message.

 

 

Bucky 5:16

got held up bc trains busy. I forgot about rush hour! :3 sorry! Omw

 

 

Steve felt relieved. At least he wasn't being stood up. He sipped his coffee and opened his emails instead, slipping into work mode.

Nearly twenty-five minutes later, Bucky finally walked in the door. Steve stood up, and when Bucky spotted him he hurried over.

“Steve, I'm so sorry,” he said, flustered. He dumped a back-pack on the floor, and patted down his pockets. “Lemme get you a drink.”

“It's fine,” Steve said, honestly relieved Bucky was here at all. He was dressed casually, in dark sweats and sneakers, his hair tied back. A pair of headphones hung around his neck.

Bucky located a ten dollar bill and looked at Steve. “Um. What do you want?”

“You sure?” Steve asked. “I invited you, I should buy.”

“What? No, it's on me. What d'you want?”

“A black Americano would be great. Actually, better make it a decaf.”

Bucky nodded. “Decaf, black Americano,” he repeated, the hurried to the counter.

Steve smiled, quietly thrilled, and sat back down. He put his phone away, and waited.

Bucky came back the the table after a few minutes, carefully set a cup of coffee down, and slid it over to Steve. “Mine's just coming,” he said, before dashing off again.

Steve waited, took a subtle glance at Bucky waiting at the counter for his drink. He was fidgeting, Steve noticed.

Maybe he really was nervous.

Steve felt surprised at that, he'd just assumed...

Well, it wasn't what he'd expected, but he figured he should stop assuming things.

He sipped his coffee, tried to will himself to feel calm and collected. If he thought of the date as a board meeting, or a client presentation, where he frequently practised telling himself he knew what he was doing, that he _could_ do this, it helped boost his confidence a little.

Bucky came back, thunked a large mug topped with cream and chunks of cookie onto the table. He sat opposite Steve, shed his hoodie to reveal a pale blue _Supergirl_ t-shirt, and his very toned, muscular arms.

Steve tried not to stare, but Bucky caught him looking so Steve smiled and said, “I like your shirt.”

Bucky smiled back, averting his eyes to his drink. He took a spoon out, and began poking at the cream. “I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I'm not used to travelling at normal times.”

“It's no problem,” Steve assured him, watching Bucky play with his drink, spoon cream into his mouth like it was a dessert. His cheeks were flushed, whether from hurrying here or because he was nervous, Steve wasn't sure.

Bucky didn't say anything else, and Steve decided to take the lead. “How was your day?”

“S'okay,” Bucky said, focused on his drink. “Had a good sleep, did some home-work.”

“Home-work?”

“Yeah, I work from home too.”

“Oh, right. You're pretty busy, then?”

“Not that much.” Bucky slid down in his seat a bit, resting his arms on the table. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” Steve said. “Nothing went wrong, anyway. That's always a good day.”

“Did you draw anything?”

“Not really, I mostly tell other people what to draw. That's kinda my job now.” Steve felt in his jacket pocket, pulled out the small note cards he'd doodled earlier. “I... drew these,” he said, offering them across the table. “For you, I mean.”

Bucky took the cards, wide eyed as he looked at them one by one. “You drew these?”

“Yeah.” Steve had considered bringing flowers for Bucky, but decided to draw some flowers instead, in an impressionist style with a lot of color.

He'd also drawn one with animals, and when Bucky got to that one his mouth opened in surprised. “It's the zoo!” he said in delight, a smile lighting his face. “These are amazing.” He went back through the cards again. “Look like water colors.”

“I used water brush pens. So, yeah, kinda.” Steve watched Bucky enthralled by his doodles. “You can keep them if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I drew them for you.”

“Oh.” Bucky held the cards, stared at them. “Wow. Thank you.”

“You're very welcome.”

Bucky laid each card neatly on the table, and looked at them all. He picked out the zoo animals, said, “This one's my favorite.” He moved it to the left, rearranging the order of the cards. “Then this one.” He picked the flowers with a lot of pink.

Steve was a little surprised. He hadn't expected Bucky to give so much attention to his doodles, but if it made him happy, that was okay. He watched Bucky arrange the cards in order of preference.

“Gee,” he said, amused, “what's wrong with those ones?” He indicated the couple at the end Bucky clearly wasn't as into as the others.

“They're great too,” Bucky said, matter of factly, “but yellow and green aren't my favorite colors.”

“Oh, I see.” Steve smiled. “What's your favorite colors?”

“I like pink, and red,” Bucky stated, playing with the card that had the pink flowers. “Purple, blue, and rainbow colors.”

“Right.” Steve reached down for his bag, pulled out his medium sized sketch pad, and his water brush pens. “Maybe you can pick the colours this time?”

It was a gamble doing art for a date, like some parlor trick, but Steve trusted his gut, and it paid off. Bucky leaned forward with interest, eyes fixed on what Steve was doing.

“What do you want me to draw?” Steve asked.

Bucky pressed his lips together, like he was thinking. “Um. Animals hiding in the jungle. With flowers, lots of flowers.”

Steve immediately thought of the Henri Rousseau impressionist paintings, and started sketching out some jungle plants for the background. “Okay. And what animals?”

Bucky chose the animals, and the jungle plants as Steve added more detail. When the outline was done, he added color in quick washes. Steve was fast at sketching, it was something he enjoyed doing. He enjoyed it even more with Bucky watching in quiet awe, clearly enjoying it.

“Here we go.” Steve turned the pad around for Bucky to look at. “Let it dry a minute. Happy with that?”

Bucky nodded, staring at the picture. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It's amazing.”

Steve almost laughed. It was hardly amazing, but he didn't want to spoil Bucky's fun. “You wanna keep it?”

Bucky looked up at him. “Can I?”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve took the pad, gently tore out the page. He signed it in the bottom corner, which was habit, then passed it over. “Here you go.”

“Will you put my name on it too?”

“Oh, sure.” Steve took back the picture, found a space to write and then inscribed, _To Bucky_. “Here.” Steve gave him back the picture, and Bucky held it reverently as he looked it over again.

“It's so cool. I love it.”

“One of my many perks,” Steve tried to joke. “Can draw for you on demand.”

Bucky looked at him, assessing. “Really?”

There was a shift in mood, Steve noticed.

“Um, sure,” he said, surprised by this turn of events. “Any time.”

Hell, if drawing was this impressive, Steve was happy to provide something he was actually good at.

Bucky swallowed, and set his picture down on the table, tracing the edge with his fingers. “So... you wouldn't mind drawing pictures with me when we... hang out?”

Steve's heart thudded at the promise of spending more time together. “Uh, no, I like drawing. I don't get to sketch fun stuff like this, so it's good.”

“And you wouldn't mind doing that with me?”

“Of course not, Bucky. I'd like to.”

“But what if it was a lot?”

“A lot is fine.”

“Oh.” Bucky seemed surprised.

Steve wondered what he was missing. “You... like drawing?” he ventured.

Bucky shook his head. “Can't draw. I have some coloring books. I like to color.”

“Okay.” Steve wasn't surprised by coloring books, he'd designed plenty of adult coloring books himself.

Maybe he could give some copies to Bucky.

What surprised Steve was why Bucky was focused on this like he expected it to be a problem. Steve didn't understand that.

“Maybe we can go somewhere next time and draw together?” he suggested. “Or, I'll draw and you can color.”

Bucky looked up at him, surprised. “Yeah?”

“Sure. Whatever you want, Bucky.”

He looked down again, touched the drawing with his finger. “What if... that's all we did? Won't you feel bored?”

Steve frowned in confusion. His mind jumped to all the worst explanations; namely, Bucky didn't want him. “You mean... as friends?”

“Huh?”

“Are you saying you don't want to date?”

“What? No.” Bucky slouched down in his seat. “I want to, I- I'm asexual.”

Steve blinked. “Uh... you're what?”

“Asexual,” Bucky mumbled, his cheeks turning pinker. “You know what that is?”

“Uh...” Steve's mind provided answers he'd seen online, but nothing definitive. “Um, is it...” He lowered his voice out of respect, “Not having sex?”

Bucky nodded, looked pained. “Told you I was disappointing.”

Steve felt sad at that. “Hold on, just... Can you spell it out for me? Sorry I'm not educated on this, that's my fault. Do you... I mean, do you want to date?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what, is it like... everything except having sex?”

“Sort of.” Bucky fidgeted in his seat. “I don't like kissing either.”

“Oh.” Steve's heart sank at that. No kissing?

No sex he could kinda understand, as that'd always been an area that made him self-conscious to the point where it was often more hassle than it was worth.

But no kissing?

“You mean... everywhere? Or just kissing on the mouth?”

“Um, just mouths.” Bucky breathed in deep, sighed. “I don't mind on the cheek, maybe.”

Steve nodded, reeling at this information. “Okay. Right. Um...” He turned his coffee cup in his hands. Clearly, this wasn't a black and white situation, and Steve was still surprised that someone this gorgeous and sweet would even look twice at Steve, let alone think about dating him.

“Look, Bucky, if this is... um, something you wanna talk about more, we can do that. I'm still interested. If you want to meet up again, I'd like that a lot.”

When he looked up, Bucky was watching him. He seemed hesitant.

“Okay, but as long as that doesn't involve trying to convince me that I'm not asexual, or that having sex is actually a great idea.”

“No, no way. I'm not going to... dictate.” Steve had experienced some variation of those kinds of lectures before, when people had thought they knew his needs better than he did. “No, Bucky. I meant, you can tell me more about what you're looking for, but maybe not in a busy coffee shop. Or, whatever suits you, I guess.”

Bucky nodded. “Okay. Yeah, I'd like that.”

“Okay.” Steve breathed in relief. He still had a shot at... something here. “Want me to draw another picture before I go? I'll have to get dinner soon. Unless you want to come eat with me?”

“Got a class,” Bucky said, smiling sadly. “But thanks.”

“No problem. Another time.” He opened his sketch pad again. “You want to color this time?”

The way Bucky looked at him was so surprised and hopeful, Steve actually felt a little sad for him. “Are you sure?”

“Sure.” Steve uncapped a pen. “Tell me what we're drawing.”

Bucky smiled wide, instantly happy.

The tension lifted too, and Steve focused on drawing whatever Bucky asked for, and it was actually kinda fun.

Unexpected, but fun. Steve rarely got to share his love for drawing this way. He drew a scene with lots of animals on a boat, on water. With the outline done, he passed it over to Bucky to color in, handing him a water brush pen and instructing him in how best to use it.

Bucky was so into it, he went all quiet as he concentrated. When he finished coloring one part, he looked to Steve for direction.

Steve supposed people who worked in different jobs didn't get a chance to do art or be creative much. It kinda made him miss teaching art; he'd enjoyed that too.

He advised Bucky on doing his background first, and coloring from one side of the page to the other, to give the water colors a chance to dry off without smudging them.

When the picture was done, with some slightly blurred but adequate coloring in from Bucky, Steve signed the picture again. This time he wrote, _To Bucky, from Steve xx_

Bucky smiled shyly as he took it, his cheeks flushing pink again. “Thank you. This is really cool.”

“You're welcome.” Steve put his supplies away in his bag. “Sadly, I had better get going.”

“Yeah, me too.” Bucky carefully collected his pictures and cards together, and stored them in his back-pack. “Thanks, Steve,” he added, so softly Steve almost missed it.

“You too. Thanks for coming all the way up here.”

Bucky nodded, putting his hoodie back on. “You getting a train?”

“I gotta drop back in my office for something.”

“Okay.” Bucky made to go, held his bag by one strap. He hesitated, looked on the verge of saying something.

Steve waited, but when nothing came, he said, “Well, I'll speak to you soon.”

“Okay.” Bucky said, head ducking down. “Bye, Steve.”

He left quickly, and Steve let him.

Maybe he should've... done something? Offered his hand, or...

Well, maybe it was best not to, Steve thought. Until he understood more about what Bucky liked or didn't like, he'd err on the side of caution.

Steve collected his things, and left the coffee shop. He wasn't headed to his office, he turned to walk toward Bryant Park instead.

He just needed a bit of time to decompress. And, he was starving. Steve picked up a container of Mexican food from his favorite food stand, and walked through the park, looking for a bench to sit on. He'd wait out the worst of the commuter rush here too.

On a lone bench, Steve sat, and ate.

He thought about Bucky, about how different he'd seemed today; shy and reserved, vulnerable even.

He thought about Bucky back in the club, when he'd seemed so confident and sexy.

 _Work environment_ , Sam's words rang in his mind.

And that was another thing, Steve realised; Bucky _had_ propositioned him for sex back at the club.

Hadn't he?

Steve would have to ask him about that. Now he thought back to it, he was a little unsure. Maybe Sam was right, and he'd misunderstood.

Then again, Bucky was also doing lap dances, and didn't he say the VIP dances were nude?

Steve set his food aside, appetite gone.

He'd have to really think about this. He'd never been involved with anyone who did these jobs before, he just didn't know how to start processing how he felt.

All Steve knew for sure was that he was really attracted to Bucky.

Like, _really_ really attracted to him.

His phone pinged, and Steve checked it.

 

 

Sam 7:18

So! How'd it go, Casanova??

 

Steve 7:19

Ok I think? Probably need another date to decide anything.

 

Sam 7:19

Sounds intense!

 

Steve 7:20

I think more like, not what I expected, if that makes sense?

 

Sam 7:21

Expectation is the root of all heartache!

 

Steve: 7:22

That was deep.

 

Sam 7:23

That was Shakespeare lol

 

Sam 7:24

Just do what feels right, man. Don't worry about what others would think. Do what makes YOU happy.

 

Steve 7:26

Thanks Sam. I will.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky 7:58

Hey Steve! Thanks for being cool. I rly enjoyed spending time with you :)

 

Bucky 8:01

I was gonna send a pic but thought i'd see if ur ok with that first?

 

Bucky 8:02

I mean a gym class one. Nothing rude :3

 

 

Steve hadn't been home all that long when he read Bucky's texts. Something about them struck him as sad, that Bucky was asking permission to send a regular photo like he expected even that to be an issue.

Steve thought back to the candid dressing room photos Bucky had sent the other night, and how potentially misleading or suggestive they could be.

Well, Steve was determined not to be the kind of jerk who thought that _pictures_ entitled him in any way. He was honestly more interested in getting to know Bucky as a real person.

He typed a reply.

 

 

Steve 8:09

I enjoyed spending time with you too :) I was going to ask if you want to have dinner with me sometime? I can cook, or we can go somewhere?

I like all your pics, but send whatever you want to, ok :)

 

 

Steve sent the message, and instead of watching his phone for a reply, he set it on the counter and started making himself a snack.

He'd sat down on his couch with a sandwich when his phone pinged with Bucky's reply. He'd sent a video. Steve opened the video, saw a close up of Bucky next to a large wall mirror in the gym. He sang to the camera, or mimed. It took Steve a moment to process it was one of those Dubsmash clips, and Bucky was doing Belle's intro song from _Beauty_ _and_ _the_ _Beast_ , word perfect and over the top. Two girls jumped in at the end of the clip for the jovial _Bon Jour's_ , and it looked like they were enjoying themselves.

They all had gym clothes on, and bright colored sweatbands. Steve smiled, wrote a reply.

 

 

Steve 8:14

You make a lovely Belle :) Who are your friends?

 

Bucky 8:15

Thanks! :P

Kate in purple, America in blue and stars. America runs the classes, Kate and I are just the lackeys lol

 

Bucky 8:16

Also I'd really like dinner! :) What would you cook?? xx

 

Steve 8:17

Whatever you want. If it's not too complex. Tell me some of your fave dishes?

I'm free most eves btw. Just pick what's best for you. X

 

Bucky 8:19

Ok! :) What about fri?

 

Steve 8:20

Fri is good :)

I'll send you my address. It's pretty easy to get to.

 

Bucky 8:22

Cool :)

Can we do more drawing? <3

 

Steve 8:23

I'm sure that can be arranged :) We prob need to talk about stuff as well. Is that okay?

 

Bucky 8:28

Yeah that's ok. <3 Gotta go. Cu soon! Xx

 

~ ~ ~

 

Friday night, Steve got home and started prepping food. He'd already gotten the ingredients, and tidied his apartment the night before, so now all he had to do was cook, then shower and make himself look presentable.

That last part would be the most difficult, Steve figured.

Bucky had said he didn't mind what they ate, so Steve was making one of his personal favorites; fishcakes, with cooked potatoes and vegetables. He made a couscous salad too, and when the food was all prepped and ready to cook, he covered it up and went to shower.

Steve had to admit, there was certainly less pressure weighing on his mind when he knew that he wasn't going to have sex tonight. Like, there wasn't even a remote chance of that happening, so he wouldn't have to perform or impress, or come out as trans.

At least not in the _bedroom_ , anyway.

It was one whole aspect of the dating game just taken off the table.

Steve tried not to lament too much at the thought of never being with Bucky that way, especially when he thought back to him grinding in Steve's lap at the strip club.

In all fairness, he supposed Bucky _had_ offered to get Steve off, and to have sex, from what Steve had understood. Sex for a price. Steve was the one who'd said no, and said he'd rather date.

And yeah, he really did have to ask Bucky about his work and what it entailed exactly. Steve hoped that tonight they could at least get on the same page together before moving forward.

 

Freshly showered, Steve restyled his hair, and dressed. He decided on comfy jeans, and a nice blue t-shirt. Bucky didn't seem the type to be bothered about formal wear, and Steve wanted to feel comfortable.

He wore his contacts instead of glasses, and headed back to his kitchenette to get ready. Steve opened a couple windows, let the cooler evening air flow in, the sounds of the street far below.

Everything was almost ready, all he had to do was fry up the fishcakes, but he'd wait until Bucky was here.

He went over to the lounge area, his small apartment being open plan, and changed the channel on the TV from comedy over to music, something for the background.

Steve was sort of nervous, mainly he wasn't sure what to expect, and he'd never dated –or tried to date– anyone as hot as Bucky before.

He hoped he wouldn't fuck things up.

 

Bucky arrived promptly at seven. Steve buzzed him in. Bucky had said he'd be coming straight from his gym, so Steve expected more casual sweats, but when he opened his door, he was surprised to see Bucky in dark fitted jeans, and a red Henley that really accentuated his muscle tone. His hair was loose, a little damp and curling at the ends, like he'd been freshly showered too.

He looked absolutely gorgeous, and he smiled easily at Steve.

“Hey.”

“Uh, hey!” Steve snapped out of his daze, and stepped aside. “Please come in.”

“Thanks.” Bucky walked in the entry way, and dumped a gym bag on the floor. He toed off his shoes. “You mind if I wash up first?”

“Oh, sure. Bathroom just down the hall.”

“Thank you.”

Steve went back to his kitchen, started to fry up the fishcakes, and finish off the vegetables.

“You hungry?” he asked, when Bucky came back.

“Yeah.” Bucky grinned at him. He'd rolled his sleeves back, and came to sit at the island where Steve had already set plates, glasses and cutlery. “What're you making?”

“Fishcakes, potatoes, and seasoned veg.” Steve flipped the cakes. “There's salad too, if you like couscous.”

Bucky was already inspecting the side dish. “Oh, man. This stuff tastes okay but doesn't stay in your stomach for five minutes.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, true.” He plated up the food, gave Bucky the bigger portions. “Here you go.” He set the dishes on the table, then brought out bottled water and fruit juice, and came to sit next to Bucky. “Bon appetit.”

“Thanks, Steve.” Bucky picked up his fork and proceeded to inhale his food quickly.

Steve was pleased he seemed to like it. “Good?” he asked, when Bucky had finished in record time.

“Amazing.” Bucky leant back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his still flat stomach. “I could definitely eat that all again.”

“There's a dessert in the refrigerator,” Steve offered, eating a bit quicker so he could catch up. “You like cheesecake?”

“Oh, man. Spoil me.” Bucky waited for Steve to finish, then helped him clear the dishes away.

“I'm going to have coffee. You want one?” Steve cut the cheesecake, placed one extra large slice in a dish for Bucky with a spoon, handed it over.

“I don't drink coffee,” Bucky said. “I'm good with the water. Thanks.”

“Oh, okay. Why don't you go sit, I'll be through in a second.”

“You sure?” Don't you want to wash up?”

“No,” Steve chuckled. “That'll keep. Go eat your dessert, I'll be right with you.”

“Okay.” Bucky gave him a smile, and carried his dessert over to the couch.

Steve made his coffee, cut himself a small slice of cake, and took it all through.

Bucky was curled into the corner of the couch, one leg tucked under him, doing something on his phone. He glanced up as Steve sat on the other end of the couch. “Hey, sorry, I'm just updating my site.”

“No problem.” Steve was used to his friends being on their phones a lot, either for work or mucking about on apps.

He noticed Bucky had finished his cake already. “You want more dessert? Plenty left.”

“Maybe later.” Bucky smiled at him. “It was good though. I'm stuffed.”

Steve nodded, let Bucky finish whatever he was doing, and sipped his coffee.

After about a minute, Bucky set his phone down. Steve asked, “What site do you have?”

Bucky shifted in place, tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. He was clean shaven today, and he did look much younger without the scruff.

“Um. Web cam stuff.”

Steve's mind jumped to a bunch of places all at once, but he said, “Huh?”

“Web cam,” Bucky said. “Like, filming myself. For money.” He shifted again, looked anywhere but at Steve.

“Oh.” Steve figured he understood what that entailed. Well, as they were on the subject, Steve said, “Bucky, can I ask you something? I mean, I don't want to pry, it's just... you have a bunch of different jobs, right?”

Bucky nodded, looked up briefly before looking away again. “You wanna know what they are?”

“Hey, only if you want to tell me.”

“It's okay,” he said, voice small. “Better tell you now in case you hate it.”

“I won't hate it,” Steve said.

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Then you'd be the first. Okay, it's gym classes. Web cam, on my own. Club work, which you seen. And, um. Sometimes I have clients for sex.”

He was blushing, Steve noticed. This must've been a lot for him to share.

Steve felt... he wasn't sure, actually.

“Um, okay,” he said, unsure what else to say. He'd had a hunch that Bucky was a sex worker, but having it confirmed was something else.

He just wasn't sure what he thought, unsure how much of an opinion over someone else's lifestyle he should have anyway. He didn't want to judge, he didn't want to judge at all, but... this was just kinda new to him.

Also, he may have been distracted by the sight of Bucky curled up on his couch, and thinking that was definitely a sight he could get used to seeing.

“Um,” Steve said again, trying to focus. “Okay, so... that's all work stuff? Right?”

“Yeah.”

“And, just to be clear... when you date someone, there's no sex involved? With the person you're dating, I mean.”

“That's right.”

“Because you're... asexual?”

“Yes,” Bucky said, “I don't enjoy or want sex, so why would I want to do it in my personal time?”

“Okay.” Steve was maybe seeing a problem arise. “Is the work you're doing something you want to... keep doing? Even if you start dating someone?”

Bucky breathed in, and fiddled with the armrest of Steve's couch. “If I met the right person and it got serious, I'd be open to changing some things, I guess. But, like, all the non sex jobs I've looked at really don't pay well, Steve. Those gym classes aren't even worth the commute sometimes. I need income from somewhere.”

“That's fair,” Steve said. “Sorry, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, or anything, I just... wanted to see what you thought, I guess.”

“Okay.” Bucky pulled his other leg up, shifted around to face Steve. “I've been doing this a long time, on and off. And I was doing it before I knew I was ace. I don't... I don't know about other jobs yet. They always want more experience, or references, and I don't have any of that. I dropped out of college, went off the rails a bit. I've been supporting myself ever since.”

“I'm sorry, Bucky,” Steve said. “And you don't need to explain. I'm not here to judge you.”

Bucky shrugged again. “S'okay. May as well tell you now so you're not wasting your time with me. I'm not exactly the kind you wanna bring home to your parents on thanksgiving.”

“Oh, well... my mom passed away, Bucky, but I'm sure she would've liked you a lot. I don't have any other family, so it's just me.”

“Oh.” Bucky looked stricken. “Shit, Steve, I'm really sorry.”

“Don't worry. It's been a while now.”

They were quiet a moment, then Bucky breathed in. “My parents don't talk to me,” he said. “I'm their big disappointment. My sisters are both ballet dancers, both stressed to the max because Mom rides them so hard. I just couldn't take it like they could.”

“That sucks, I'm sorry.” Steve felt so sad to hear that. “You did ballet? That makes sense. You dance so beautifully.”

Bucky smiled shyly. “Thanks. Yeah, I did, since before I could walk, it feels like. Everything was ballet, ballet, ballet, every single day. Ballet school instead of regular school, no other interests allowed in the house. It was okay, but when I got older I wanted to try modern and jazz. I _really_ like jazz. But Mom, she fought me the whole way. It just made me so mad. Plus, she had me on a diet since I was a kid, and when I hit puberty I was hungry all the time. So I'd sneak out and go to clubs, go eat burgers in diners, met some kids in regular school, or kids who'd dropped out. Things got real difficult at home after that.” Bucky cleared his throat. “Shit, sorry I didn't mean to offload.”

“No, it's... you can tell me,” Steve said. “I'm sorry, it can't have been easy.”

Bucky shrugged, huffed a small laugh. “I dunno, it wasn't the worst, I guess. I just don't know why it always had to be her way or the highway, y'know? And at the same time, I had people hitting on me all the time, in school, out of school, and I didn't really get it. I still don't get it, but... anyway.”

He fished around in his pocket, produced a folded piece of paper. “I wrote a list of stuff,” he said, offering the paper to Steve. “Y'know, for dating? If you decide you want to date me, that is.”

“Oh.” Steve took the paper, unfolded it.

On one side was listed _Will do_ , the other side _Won't do_. Under _Won't do_ was _sex, oral sex, kissing, too much touching, showering together_ , but under _Will_ _do_ there was a lot more: _Cuddling, holding hands, small kisses, nuzzling, spooning, hugs, hanging out, walks, watching movies, sleep in same bed, trips, emotional support, romantic stuff, and removing any spiders if required._

Steve's eyes lingered on the _Will do_ list, then he looked at Bucky, bewildered. “Wait... are you saying you would date _me?_ ”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, like that was obvious.

“But... I... _why?_ ”

Bucky blinked at him. “Don't you want to date?”

“Yeah, but...” Steve's face was heating up. “Why me?”

“I like you.”

“Uh...”

“Don't you want me to like you?”

“Yes! Yes, I do, it's just... I'm surprised, that's all.”

“Why are you surprised?” There was a lilt of amusement in Bucky's voice.

“I... guess I didn't think I'd be your type.”

Bucky smiled, ducking his head. “Didn't think I was your type either.”

“Okay, so...” Steve glanced at the list in his hand, then looked to Bucky. “You wanna maybe give this a try?”

Bucky's answering smile lit up his whole face.

“Yes.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Bucky liked having his hair stroked, Steve found. Bucky had started off with his head on Steve's shoulder, but he was a bit too big for cuddling that way, engulfing Steve like an oversized dog who didn't realise how big he was.

They'd kind of shifted around on the couch to watch a movie, edging closer and closer, and ended up cuddling.

Or, Bucky cuddling Steve, and Steve stroking Bucky's shoulder, and his hair. Bucky had lovely hair, thick and glossy and dark. “Shall I braid it?” he'd joked, and Bucky had agreed.

Steve braided little plaits here and there, while Bucky closed his eyes happily.

“You sure you don't mind this?” he asked.

“No, it's nice,” Steve assured him, running his fingertips through Bucky's hair, undoing the plaits gently.

It was comforting to share intimacy again, it'd been a long time for Steve.

“Won't you get bored?” Bucky asked softly. His shoulders tensed, like he was bracing for the worst.

Steve felt sad at that.

“I guess if I want to do something else, I'll say so?” Steve suggested. “But I like staying in and hanging out, Bucky. This is good for me.”

Bucky breathed out, and carefully made to turn over. He laid his head back down on the cushion over Steve's lap, and looked up at him with his pale blue eyes. “I'll understand if you get bored, Steve. I know this probably wasn't what you expected from me. I won't hold it against you, or anything, if you don't want to see me.”

“Bucky.” Steve touched Bucky's arm, traced the curve of his bicep. “Just because something is unexpected, doesn't mean it's... unwelcome. Okay? Can we try it out?”

Bucky smiled, hesitant. “Okay.”

Steve smiled back, and swallowed. “I, uh. I'm used to being a sort of... disappointment, I guess. If a guy hasn't figured it out on their own, I mean. When I have to tell them I'm trans, that's usually the end of any dating.” He watched Bucky's reaction, figured maybe he should've dropped this bomb earlier.

Bucky didn't recoil from him though, so Steve counted that as a small win.

“Trans?” Bucky asked.

“Yes, I'm a transman.”

“Oh. Okay.” He blinked, but didn't avoid eye contact, like a lot of people did. “I'm sorry people are jerks, then. I have trans friends.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, quite a few. I know some people are jerks about it. And I've dated a transwoman before, but it didn't work out.”

“How come?” Steve asked, then winced at himself. “That's none of my business, I'm sorry.”

“No, it's okay. It was the same problem I always have; she wanted a sexual relationship, and that's not something I want. So, it didn't work out.”

“I'm sorry, Bucky.” Steve really did feel sorry, too. “That's rough. Can I ask, like... how long have you known you were asexual?”

“Well, I always _knew_. I never liked sex, or kissing, or any of that.” Bucky's shoulders had tensed again. “I just don't like it. I always thought it was me, that there was a problem with _me_ , or something. But it never changed, no matter how many people I slept with, and I kept doing it because that's what everyone expects. Then two years ago, I saw this article on being ace, and I realised, fuck, that's _me_. So I read up on it more, and now I know that sex and romance are completely different, and I'm allowed to want one but not the other.” He breathed out with a wry laugh. “Just, most people want the opposite, I guess. They want sex more than romance.”

“Well... not everyone,” Steve told him. “There's still some romantics left.”

Bucky grinned up at him. “Like you?”

“Yeah, like me.”

“I kinda hoped you were, Steve.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

_Two months later_

 

 

Thursday after work, Steve had rushed downtown to meet Bucky in a diner, just a couple blocks from his club.

Their schedules weren't the easiest to get a lot of time together, but they did what they could, when they could. Bucky was actually very committed to spending time with Steve, and talking to him over messages and with pictures, which was pretty great.

And it was good to see Bucky any chance Steve got, even if it was only for a little while. Steve got such a giddy feeling when he was with Bucky, loved being around him any chance he could. In fact he was pretty sure he'd already fallen for Bucky, but he was trying to play it cool, to not pressure Bucky for more than he was ready for.

Honestly, Steve still wasn't over the fact that Bucky even wanted to date him. Bucky was really a very sweet, fun person to be with, and the more time Steve spent with him, the more smitten he was.

After another successful date over food in the diner, Bucky checked his phone and groaned lightly. “I need to get going.”

He was dancing tonight; gay night at the club. Steve nodded. “I'll see you tomorrow evening?”

Bucky often spent Friday evening with Steve, though he did have to attend to his website from his phone sometimes, and Steve tried not to pry.

Bucky smiled at him easily. “Sure!”

“Okay, well. Until tomorrow, then.”

“Hey, unless...” Bucky tucked his hair behind his ear, a habit when he was nervous. “You wanna come hang out in the club? It won't be open yet, you can sit backstage with me.”

“Um...” Steve hadn't been back to the club since they'd started dating, to give Bucky some boundary between his work and his personal life. They had talked about Steve visiting again, and backstage wasn't the same as sitting out in the club with other customers. “Uh, well... Yeah, that would be cool. If you're sure?”

Bucky seemed pleased. “Yeah, I'd like that.”

 

They walked down the street, close together amid the evening bustle of people hurrying about. They didn't hold hands, Bucky seemed a little shy over things like hand holding, especially out in public. He always seemed more relaxed back at Steve's, and often they'd cuddle on the couch, or hold hands watching a movie. Steve wasn't going to push him for more; he was already pleased with how things were progressing, and how nice it was to feel like he had someone who was interested in him too.

Instead of heading to the main entrance of the club, Bucky took Steve to a side door in the alley, and buzzed a small, hidden button.

The door was opened by a stocky, handsome older man, smoking a fat cigar. He looked Steve over, grunted as he took the cigar out his mouth. “This the guy you been raving about for weeks?” he said to Bucky.

“Thank you for that, Logan,” Bucky said dryly. “Steve, this is Logan. He's in charge, that's why he's cranky. Logan, this is Steve.”

Steve tried to quell his smile. “Hey. Pleased to meet you.”

Unexpectedly, Logan smirked in response. “Hey, Steve. C'mon in, then.” He opened the door for them. “No touching or hitting on the dancers, now.”

“Oh, no, I–”

“Relax, Steve,” Bucky said, taking his hand to lead. “He knows you won't.”

They followed Logan down a narrow hall.

“Gabe and Jacques here?” Bucky asked.

“Yep,” Logan replied.

“Sweet.” Bucky turned to Steve, explained, “They're the techs. I'm gonna see if I can squeeze in a spot onstage first to check my new routine. That okay?”

“Sure.” Steve let himself be guided through the maze of black painted halls. Bucky had hold of his hand, and that was exciting enough.

Logan led them to a door that opened on a large room. Steve realised it was the club itself. With all the lights on it looked so different; quiet and static, with stains visible on the carpet and the décor not as impressive.

A few people were milling about, and sat in chairs close to the stage. Bucky led Steve to a table, where he dumped his gym bag.

“You okay to wait here? I gotta see if there's time to get a run through. You can watch.” He smiled, and Steve smiled back, sat down on a chair.

“I'll be here.”

“Okay.” Bucky pulled his hoodie off, leaving his tank top on, and hurried off to the stage with a spring in his step.

 

Steve watched from his seat as the acts had quick run through's onstage, from the emcee singing _Cabaret_ , to the dancers and the magician. When it was Bucky's turn, he came twirling onstage to the classic _Flashdance_ audition song, starting off slow, then getting faster as he spun and danced.

He didn't perform the full range of moves Steve knew he was capable of, but maybe he was saving it for later.

And plus, he had just eaten that huge burger in the diner.

“And you throw the bucket of glitter on me at the end,” Bucky was in the middle of saying to the emcee when the music finished, hopping down off the stage.

“Who will sweep the stage, huh?” the emcee complained. “That foil glitter is slippery, someone will fall on their ass.”

“I'll find a broom,” Logan said. “Get one of the newbies to sweep it after Buck's done.”

“That means they have to sweep while I'm onstage,” the emcee pointed out.

The logistics of the glitter was argued over a while longer, until another act took the stage to rehearse and drowned them out with music.

Bucky came back over to sit next to Steve. “Remy hates any mess on the stage,” he said quietly.

“Well, I'm sure he's only thinking about practicality,” Steve said.

Bucky rolled his eyes and laughed. “Don't side with him, Steve! Oh, my God.”

“Sorry.” Steve grinned. “So, that was awesome, by the way. I loved _Flashdance_.”

“Yeah, me too.” Bucky sipped from his water bottle, smiled at him. “You know a lot of those flips and break dancing shit she did at the end? Done by a male stand in.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, had to wear a wig, and strap his dick down in the leotard.” Bucky chuckled, and pulled his hoodie back on. “My hero. I'd love to do that job.”

“Well, you don't need a wig,” Steve said.

“True. You wanna come backstage for a bit now? It's quieter than out here. I know you said it was hard to hear.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed.

Bucky led him through a door, down a short hall that led to a messy dressing room. Only a couple other people were there, and they were occupied with organising their costumes, by the looks of it, in various states of undress.

“Um, won't they mind if I'm here?” Steve asked quietly.

“We can go in there.” Bucky led him to another room, with battered old couches and soft chairs, also strewn with costumes. “This is our chill out room.” Bucky pushed some sparkly underwear aside, and sat on a two seater. “This okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve sat next to him. “If you're sure?”

“Sure I'm sure.” Bucky smiled shyly. “I'm gonna eat, though.” He opened his gym bag, pulled out an enormous packet of caramel wafers. “Want one?”

“I'm good.” Steve wasn't hungry, but he had a bottle of fruit juice to drink.

They sat as Bucky ate, and talked about the show, and Bucky's plans for other acts. He even had plans to choreograph a complex jazz routine, he said, and audition for an agency, see if they'd give him any work.

Steve loved that idea. “Then you really would be _Flashdance_ ,” he teased.

Bucky laughed hard. “I got the leg warmers in my bag. I'm all set.”

 

When more people came backstage –including one dancer called Wade who sat far too close to everyone– Steve thought he'd call it a night, and leave Bucky to get ready.

He had an early start tomorrow anyway.

“How are you getting home?” Bucky asked, concerned.

“I'll book a ride,” Steve said. “Are you getting a ride with your friends later?”

“Yeah, Logan is driving.” Bucky smiled. “I'm glad you came down tonight, Steve.”

“Me, too.”

When Steve's cab had arrived, Buck walked him through the backstage, and to the side door. Steve stepped into the alley and cooler evening breeze, spotted his car waiting just ahead. He turned to Bucky, who was waiting in the open door.

“Well, I hope tonight is good, Buck. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” Bucky smiled, ducking his head. “I'll send you pics later, if you want?”

“Sure,” Steve said. “Whatever you want, okay?”

Then he hesitated, still unsure of how to handle their goodbyes. He didn't want to launch himself at Bucky, or anything. “Well, yeah. 'Bye, Buck. Take care.”

He turned to go, stopped when Bucky said, “Steve?”

“Yeah?” Steve turned back, was surprised as Bucky leant in quickly and kissed his cheek.

It was brief, but significant.

Steve stood stock still, and Bucky slipped back behind the door with a shy smile.

“See ya, Steve.”

The door shut, and Steve grinned stupidly to himself. That was definitely progress.

He started off to his waiting cab, got inside, and breathed in deep. After a moment, he got out his phone, sent a text to Bucky, _Miss you already xx_

Within thirty seconds he had a reply, _Miss you too! See u tomorrow xox_

Steve smiled down at the message, feeling pleased. He knew that he and Bucky still had a ways to go, but this...

This was a good start.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ~ ~ ~
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
> Your actions do not define your orientation.
> 
>  
> 
> Here are some helpful links:
> 
>  
> 
> [6 Facts on what it means to be Asexual](http://everydayfeminism.com/2015/07/what-it-means-to-be-asexual)
> 
>  
> 
> [Dating while Asexual](http://everydayfeminism.com/2014/06/dating-while-asexual)
> 
>  
> 
> [The difference between Asexual and Aromantic](http://everydayfeminism.com/2016/09/asexual-and-aromantic-matter)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> And also:
> 
>  
> 
> [8 Things that Transgender Folks do not owe you](http://everydayfeminism.com/2016/02/trans-people-dont-owe-you)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> ~ ~ ~
> 
> Here is a [rebloggable post of this fic on tumblr](https://jro616.tumblr.com/post/171098447805/within-arms-reach).


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